Memories
by Thefanficmistress
Summary: A forgotten tragedy from Logan’s past suddenly resurfaces leaving Logan a shell of his former self. Can anyone get through to him? Rated for Violence, and Slash! Updated! 91906 Chapters 7 & 8. Chapter 9 coming soon!
1. Default Chapter

Title: Memories

Author: Shadowkat83 AKA fanficexpress

Rating: R

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, Slash and MPREG

Summary: A forgotten tragedy from Logan's past suddenly resurfaces leaving Logan a shell of his former self. Can anyone get through to him?

Author's Note: This story will deal with dark issues and imagery but its Logan so what do you expect lol. I know it might seem like I don't like wolverine from how I torture him in my fics…but really it's just a sign of my affection  R&R!

**P.S. This chapter has been re-uploaded to fix formatting errors!**

Chapter1: Emergence

The atmosphere was a mixture of both anticipation and worry. The room was still save for the bouncing of knees and anxious tapping of fingers. This was the only time the women were ever quiet and Logan took advantage of the silence. His nerves were shot as it was and he felt a constant compulsion to run away growling and snarling, so he greeted the silence with open arms. It was all that kept him sane. It wasn't a secret that he hated hospitals, the sterile white, the smell of blood mixed with lemon scented cleaning solutions. They were all the same and he inwardly shuddered, redirecting his thoughts so they wouldn't go to what jubilee called "the bad place". Just like the women he felt an itch of anticipation, and a small inkling of worry. Their good friend was in labor, finally going to have the baby it seemed like she had been carrying forever. Her name was Molly Sharaden, a very big political figure. Very outspoken about her views on the mutant agenda. Thankfully her views were the same as his and the rest of the X-men. They instantly became good friends talking politics and all around enjoying each other's company. There were many days she'd come over for dinner, just for the hell of it. Everyone was baffled by her friendliness to Logan and shocked by Logan's willingness to be friendly back. He'd buy her baby clothes and other pricey accessories, swearing they were from jubilee but she always gave him a knowing smile andapeck on the cheek. When he heard she had went into labor he was the first to be notified and the first to arrive at the hospital. He'd been sitting in the stiff waiting room chair ever since.

"It's been hours, I hope everything is alright." Jubilee said from the uncomfortable chair next to him. Her forehead was creased with worry and she wrung her hands this way and that.

"Sometimes these things take time. She'll be alright." Logan said not bothering to give her a reassuring smile. He didn't feel like reassuring someone else when he felt unsure himself. For some strange reason he felt cloudy inside. Something felt off, and there was this intense pressure of thought within him, like a dam about to burst.

"You ok wolvie? You seem distant all of a sudden." Jubilee said with a frown.

"Yeah, I'm just thinkin'." Logan said turning away which was his sign to Jubilee to let this line of conversation go.

"Logan, what's going on?" Jeans voice cut through the static in his brain. He felt a hand meet his shoulder and he tensed.

"What?" He said somewhat startled.

"I said what's going on? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, why the hell you keep asking me that?" Logan growled out with an irritated glare. His irritation level skyrocketed to dangerous levels. Jean removed her hand quickly. Logan always had a short temper, that was somewhat of his trademark, but this still wasn't like him to snap at her of all people so fiercely.

"You just seemed in turmoil. I wanted to help."

"You been snoopin' around in my head again…I told you I don't like that." He spat.

"You were broadcasting Logan. Calm down." Jean said. The worry in her eyes intensified, which only managed to annoy Logan even further. He hated when people felt sorry for him. Thought they could save him. He couldn't be saved! He opened his mouth to give her a hearty threat to stay out of his head but the sight of an exhausted doctor interrupted him. He abruptly stood. His cold eyes staring at the doctor, his white lab coat caused a flutter of fear to run up his spine but with effort he pushed it aside.

"How is she?" Logan asked. His voice much lighter then anyone was use to.

"She's just fine Mr. Logan, She has a beautiful baby girl. She has requested to see you." Logan smiled despite himself.

"A little baby girl." He repeated. He had been right all along. He told her it would be a girl. His mind filled with a sudden euphoria, happiness he hadn't felt before. Then just as suddenly as the joy came it swirled into darkness. His smile faltered as flashes of grotesque moments he couldn't recognize popped in and out of his head like snapshots in a scrapbook. Blood, pain, loss, sorrow and tears all balled up into one intense emotion. He swayed momentarily but quickly shook it off and swallowed hard. His heart began to race, and he could feel the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Logan." Jean questioned. Feeling the sudden change in mood. The fear and anxiety radiated off of the hairy man before her.

"Jean." He said warningly. He didn't know where these feelings and disturbing images were coming from, or what triggered them but he didn't want Jean's emotions too. he didn't want pity, not from Jean and not from anyone. He wanted to be left alone to work things out. He wanted to see the little baby he had been waiting to see for nine months and congratulate the mother, that's all he wanted to do.

"Mr. Logan? Are you ready to see her now?"

"Yeah, lead the way." He said jamming his hands in his pockets. As lame as it was he felt like he was protecting everyone from the beast within by hiding his hands, keeping his lethal claws bound even if it was by a thin layer of blue jean. Something was stirring things up inside of him, he felt like he was slowly loosing control. The walk to her hospital room seemed extremely long and as the time slipped by his mind sunk deeper and deeper into turmoil. The images kept coming in flashes that made his stomach lurch. One second he could see himself curled up in a dark cell, his eyes squeezed shut, pain written all over his features, then the next he was on his knees, screaming, yelling for someone to stop, then finally a flash of red, everything was red. He closed his eyes using his senses alone to follow the doctor. Taking a deep breath to clear his head he opened his eyes. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring with horror at the walls. They were once white but not anymore, they were dripping with red, with the metallic stink of blood. Quickly covering the walls in beads like sweat from pours.

"Mr. Logan, are you ok?" The doctor said with concern standing outside of the door that led to Molly's room. Logan diverted his attention to him and nodded, then cautiously looked back at the walls only to find the normal sterile white of a hospital lobby.

"I'm losin' it. Gotta make this quick." He murmured. He stepped into the room, trying to leave all his troubles behind. There laid Molly, her black hair was tossed about and she looked completely drained but the smile on her face held intense happiness. She smiled down at the small bundle in her arms wrapped all in pink.

"You were right, it's a girl." Daring to take her eyes off of her new baby girl for just a second she smiled up at her companion. Logan smiled back, a feral smile that others found intimidating but she never did. Maybe that was why he liked her so much. She wasn't afraid of him, didn't assume, didn't ask to many questions and didn't try to change him or "save" him. She just genuinely wanted to be his friend.

"You know I'm always right Molly, when you gonna realize that?" Logan said leaning against the doorframe with his hands crossed firmly over his chest. He felt a stinging in his heart. The scene, truly touched him, warmed him to his core and a strange longing washed over him.

"Come here." She said and Logan hesitantly made his way to the hospital bed. He gazed over with cool blue eyes to see the slightly open eyes of a happy infant. He instantly melted.

"Say hello to your god-father, Sarah." She spoke softly and Logan looked up with surprise.

"Not even gonna ask me first, huh?" He questioned playfully.

"Ha. Like you'd refuse." She said and they both chuckled a little before quieting to watch the antics of her new bundle of joy. He let the baby's tiny chubby fingers wrap around his index finger.

"She's beautiful, when did you decide to call her Sarah?" He said.

"Just now, doesn't she look like a Sarah?"

"Sarah's a fine name." He said lightly touching the little tuft of black hair at the top of her head.

"Wanna hold her?"

"Oh no." he said his eyes wide as if she had slapped him. Molly giggled out right.

"It's just that it's so small and I'm not the tender type."

"Your not gonna hurt her. Just cradle her in your arms, that's all you gotta do." She said emphasizing how she was holding the child. Logan, with much hesitation, picked up the child and cradled her, she put up a small fuss but quickly quieted down.

"See. You're a pro at this. And it looks like she likes you."

"Yeah…" He said suddenly feeling funny. His mouth went dry and his legs wobbled. His heart felt like it was trying to beat out of his chest and the echoing sounds of a wailing baby shrilled in his head.

"I'm sorry I've gotta go." He said quickly, handing her the baby gingerly and stalking out of the room. The crying sound kept getting louder, and his head throbbed. Images flooded his mind so nauseatingly fast that he had to use the wall for support. His knees finally buckled and hit the floor. He held his ears wanting to scream in agony.

"Stop!" He yelled to his inner-voice but it wasn't listening. Footsteps clattered down the hall as Jean and Scott found Logan hunched over on the floor. They reached out to help but he swatted them away, growling and grinding his teeth in mental torment. The images began to stream together and created a scene and through the burgeoning cries of a newborn he watched something horrifying play out, something from his past. Jean and Scott watched as Logan suddenly froze, all effort to bat them away ceased. Jean caressed the sides of his face speaking softly to him but there was no reaction. His eyes were unfocused seeming to just stare right through them, his face a mask of horror and regret. He watched the scene in his minds eye. Pain, blood, sorrow, and loss. The sharp sound of a gunshot rang in his ears and he screamed out, screamed until his throat was raw. The wailing baby had hushed and he just kneeled there staring off into space, his vision coated in red.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Memories

Rating: R

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, Slash and MPREG

Summary: A forgotten tragedy from Logan's past suddenly resurfaces leaving Logan a shell of his former self. Can anyone get through to him?

**Author's note : I had to reload these next 4 chapters because I just noticed that there was a formatting problem. This should make the story easier to read! I'll be workingon the chapters for the next two days so hang tight.Also I corrected some of the stand-out spelling errors and what-not. Of course i don't have a beta reader so there still will be errors floating around.**

xoxoxoxoxox

Memories Part 2: a glimpse of something terrible

There was a growing gloom filtering through the halls of the Xavier institute. The once cocky rambunctious teenagers that ran through the halls with dreams of being the next X-men had quieted. It was all because of one mans absence. Logan didn't realize that despite all his posturing to keep people away he was a staple of the school, a constant, the one resident that couldn't get hurt, couldn't go down, couldn't be compromised. The children thought he was the coolest guy in the world. They wanted to be tough and powerful just like him and every chance they got they tried to "hang-out" with the burly man named Logan. Even if it meant helping him cut wood for the fireplace or be his helper when he's working on the cars in the garage. They'd show up where ever he was working and he'd put them to work and in exchange he'd answer whatever questions they'd ask. He'd give his usual rough answers, but there was always merit to them and over time the kids learned concepts like honor and confidence in ones self. Now they were learning mortality and vulnerability. They were realizing that everyone had their demons and no one was without weakness, not even their idol. If he can fall down…that means I can too…right? That's what was on their minds. That's what was on everyone's mind.

The x-team was taking it just as hard as the student body. Putting up a strong conjoint front they decided to tell all inquiring students that Logan would be just fine with time but it was becoming harder and harder to look the children in the eye and tell them what seemed to be a lie. It had been almost 2 weeks now, 2 weeks and Logan hadn't moved. No threatening curl of his lip, no dangerous glares, no gravely chuckles or murderous rage and even though those were his famous traits that everyone complained about…those very traits were the first that were missed. He just lay still, comatose and seemingly trapped behind glossy eyes. They stared blankly at the ceiling, the same blank stare he had since the hospital hallway. No matter what Jean tried it seemed that medical Science wasn't the answer to Logan's vegetable act and as the days slipped by hope of the mighty Logan ever waking up waned between the senior members of the school. The Faculties Morale was slipping as well and the activities that were usually spent together as a team like meals, missions and training felt empty without the stoic, ill tempered feral snarling and yelling and inserting innuendos into conversations that even made the usually quiet and regal Ororo blush and giggle.

The day Logan was rushed to the med lab from the hospital the professor had taken him aside and sent him on a pressing mission to recover a dangerous mutant child. He reluctantly took the mission realizing his duty but inside he felt awful leaving while a team member was down. While away he kept in constant contact with the mansion, wanting updates on Logan's condition. She could hear the sadness and disappointment in his voice when she told him there was no change. Jean would try to talk to him about his mission but Scott was never much in the mood to talk about how it was going. The conversation always turned to what was being done to bring Logan back. He was worried and he had right to be. Logan had never been down for this long and despite there caustic association with each other Scott still saw him as a valuable member of the team.

With the new baby Molly couldn't stop over the mansion to see Logan in person but she'd call everyday for an update, sometimes twice a day. Somehow she felt it was something she had done that sparked whatever was keeping him mentally hostage and despite Charles' reassurance that there was nothing she did to provoke this, her voice still shook with regret and responsibility. She offered to make some calls and ask some favors to get the best in mutant and human medicine to work around the clock on Logan but the professor politely declined. No amount of medical know how could help Logan now, His memories needed to be sorted, filed away and if necessary…blocked.

The feral mutant left the professor no other choice and even while understanding Logan's need for privacy and his fear of physical and mental manipulation, he could no longer avoid entering Logan's mind. He feared that if there was no improvement in 2 weeks time he might not wake up at all without some intervention. So with a heavy sigh the professor decided to take his chances with Logan's friendship and trust and use his abilities to force his way into his turbulent subconscious.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

The professor sat quietly at Logan's Head in the overwhelming quiet of the medical lab. His hands were planted firmly on the hairy Man's temples as he concentrated on finding the source of his distress. The only sound was the slow and steady intake of breath coming from his comatose pupil as his blurry orbs still stared straight forward. The usual cool blue of his eyes had changed murky and dark, completely void of consciousness or reason. His mouth was slack and his hair grew wild and untamed. His usual stubble turned into a wiry beard and his hair flowed down and brushing his shoulders. Sweat formed on the Charles' brow as the formidable task of forcefully breaking down Logan's mental Shields became more and more painstaking. The mans innate ability to block out psychic advances was baffling. The professor couldn't imagine this was a learned ability, a skill forced upon him by his captures at Weapon X. This ability was too organic, too deep rooted. This was an extension of Logan's mutant abilities that they had never had the chance to really touch on before. Over time he had found that Logan's mind was much more complex then most. His mind had the ability to switch back and forth between duel consciousnesses, which was a defense mechanism of sorts, giving him the capabilities of surviving no matter the situation. Whether the brute force, cunning and skill of the feral mind was needed or the honor, ingenuity and reason of the civilized mind was needed Logan would undoubtedly find a way to survive. These invasive memories that were bombarding Logan's mind was causing him pain, his defense mechanism engaged but which side can help? The Beast or the Man? The man will confront the memories feel the full gamut of emotion and pain that stemmed from them, and either accept them or fall apart. The beast on the other hand lacking enough reason to understand these memories will only feel anger and explosive rage, but will eventually forget the ordeal all together, letting his mind regress into a more simpler state of being. The two sides of his mind struggled for supremacy and while the battle raged Logan simply shut down. Charles had to decide for him, 2 weeks in a coma was long enough, he had already waited to long. The man or the beast…Xavier chose the Man. So he sat at Logan's crown trying to break down Logan's walls, hold back the beast and let the man inside of him decipher and face whatever atrocities had been inflicted on him so long ago. 30 minutes had passed and signs of fatigue were evident on the professor's face and Jean began to worry. She opened her mouth to voice her concerns but before she could utter a word he reeled back in his chair. Snatching his hands away from Logan's temples as if they were on fire.

"Professor what is it?" Jean said, stepping up beside him in a hurry, Her red hair swaying around her shoulders with her sudden movement.

"I was able to break down his walls and I saw a small glimpse…Pain, so much pain and anger." The professor uttered while shivering slightly. He took a deep breath to center himself, blinking away the images that had overwhelmed him.

"Maybe if we both try…share the emotion between the both of us, we can figure out what's happening. Find a way to help him." Jean spoke with determination. She couldn't' let him lie there any longer.

"That just might work Jean. Brace yourself and prepare yourself…what you might see will not be pretty " He said and she nodded stiffening her shoulders and breathing out slowly. The professor once again touched Logan's temples while jean stepped close and put a hand on the middle of his forehead. With skill and concentration their minds left their bodies and entered the twisted world of Logan's subconscious. His world was dark and musky with an eye-watering stench of disease and decay. Jean did all she could not to gag on the thick stagnant air. The light seemed perpetual, not from the sun or a lamp, just light streaming from nowhere. Just enough so they could make out shapes and outlines.

"Professor where are we?"

"I'm not sure Jean…I believe this might be a small chunk of the memory that's causing Logan so much pain."

"It looks like we're in a dungeon of some sort." She spoke rhetorically. As their eyes adjusted to the weird light they could see the damp cobblestone walls and floors. The diminutive pitter-patter of sublevel creatures that loved the dark and the damp scurried and scampered along the moist uneven floor as she slowly pushed the professor down a long corridor. On each side were cells and cages, each equipped with a set of manacles that hung ominously from the ceiling. Most were empty, but there were a few where skeletons hung, arid and dry. The obvious remains of Projects and captives that didn't quite live up to par. They had to have passed 30 or so cells before they approached the one at the very end of the hall. The cell marked dangerous/beware. There weren't bars like the others; the door was a steel armored plate with a small latch at knee level. Jean assumed so they could slide in food and water. They were startled by a muffled groan that echoed from inside.

"Logan?" Jean asked, pressing her hands against the metal door. She yelped in pain and snatched her hands away gazing at them as if looking for burns.

"Jean are you alright?" The professor asked. His face was balled up in a frown. This place felt to hold unspeakable slaughter and his mind could reach out and feel all the souls that had died in this unforgiving place. Souls that had died screaming.

"What ever is behind that door, it's…it must be horrible. There's so much pain. Both mental and physical. I can't bare it." Jean finally said still gazing at her hands.

"Are you coming to take it away?" Came a defeated voice. A voice they could barely recognize but the Canadian drawl was still there though it sounded tired and strained. Before Jean could figure a way to answer such a vague question she was interrupted by a sturdy demanding from behind.

"Just remain calm, this will be over before you know it." Out of the shadows stepped a man and Jean gasped at what she saw. He had no face, no features, just a blank slate of peach pale skin. The faceless man walked forward as if he didn't even see Jean or the professor and behind him were 4 other faceless doctors all fitted with laboratory smocks splashed with dark red. They could hear a muffled whimper on the other side of the door and the doctors unlocked the heavy door and slid it back only to violently rush the room. Jean tried to see over the commotion, see who the victim was, but there were too many of them. They struggled to hold there patient down but she had no view of him. All she saw was a flurry of white and red.

"No! NOOO!" He kept shouting. He screamed and Jean had never heard anything so heart stopping in all her life. The scene suddenly shifted, the old one fading away and being replaced by the next one. Jean quickly studied her new surroundings immediately becoming aware of the fact that the professor was no longer with her.

"Logan? Where is the professor? Is this something you don't want him to see?" She spoke out loud but she got no response. She felt cold, without the professor to help guide her she felt frightened and a knot formed in her throat as screams reverberated off of every wall seeming to bounce back directly at her. She stood in the blazing white of a hospital lobby. No longer musky and dark like the dungeon. In front of her was a pair of double swinging doors. She gazed through the small window to see a bustle of doctors, barking orders and checking instruments. He was screaming, yelling and begging but they didn't hesitate, didn't stop, and didn't flinch. The blank slates that were there faces held no expression and she wondered if this was what the doctors had looked like to him. Or had he gave these men no faces to illustrate their inhumanity…she wasn't sure. She pushed through the double doors with the full intention of stopping whatever heinous act was being committed but she remembered this wasn't real life, this was in his mind, a memory and she couldn't interfere, couldn't change anything. She was like a phantom, a haunt with no tangibility. She slowly walked around the scene hoping she could see from a different vantage point but the whole room seemed to turn with her and no matter where she stood she saw the same perspective. His mind just wouldn't let her see what they were doing to him. She could make out his hand clasping the sides of the medical bed. Grasping so hard his knuckles were white with tension. The thick metal restraints dug into his wrists and his claws shot in and out compulsively. The doctors spoke gibberish and Jean assumed that, that's what Logan must have heard, through all the chaos, the pain, and the horror. She took a step but she realized her feet were in something wet, something coagulated and slick, she looked down to see the floor covered in red. Her eyes widened with horror as it crept across the floor dripping from the hospital bed, moving as if it were some sort of sentient being who's aim was the coat everything in the room. The doctor's lab coats were saturated with the same crimson as they cut and sawed on their patient. The wet sounds of flesh being forcibly sawed and the putrid smell of caked blood and gore assaulted her nostrils and she suddenly found that she couldn't take it anymore. She finally screamed out, screamed along with Logan, and the scene came to a dramatic stop. frozen. Everything was quiet except for her heaving breathes. The blood had stopped flowing the monitors stopped beeping and the doctors stopped moving, her stomach turned at what she saw and the urge to vomit was strong. With a start she gasped as a gunshot rang out. She whirled around wildly. It sounded so close, like it was in the room with her but she couldn't find the source and before her mind could even guess what had occurred she was thrown out of his mind with such force that in real life her head snapped back and she fell like the dead.

"Jean, Jean, talk to me. I was thrown out of his mind. Are you ok, what did you see?" The professor asked leaning forward and extending his hand to help her off the floor. With mild confusion she looked around reassuring herself that she was back to reality and that world she had just witnessed was far far away.

"Something Horrible…"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Hours later After taking time to catch his breath and converse with jean on what she saw the Professor called for an immediate meeting with the entire faculty. They filtered in the meeting hall sitting at their usual spots at the long cherry wood table. Once everyone was seated it was sorely obvious that two seats were unoccupied and everyone knew why. Scott, team leader who usually sat next to Charles was on a mission, but was soon to return. The other seat belonged to Logan. Clearing his throat the professor began the meeting. Without revealing too much and keeping Logan's privacy in mind he told the X-men that there was a fight going on in Logan's mind and it was something that he would have to figure out for himself. He admitted that he had tried to help but couldn't, Logan's mind was far too volatile. With a heavy heart he prepared his children for the worse, the outlook wasn't good but they shouldn't give up hope just yet. His speech was touching, and his urge for everyone to keep hope alive was stirring but it just wasn't enough and the professor could feel the doubt radiating off everyone sitting at the table. Xavier was at a loss, even with his expansive knowledge and mental skill he couldn't find a way to correct this situation. With a twinkle of hope in his eyes he suggested that sitting with Logan and talking to him might appeal to the part of Logan that would never leave them behind, maybe cause him to fight harder. To some it sounded like a shot in the dark but still they didn't hesitate to come up with a rotation. Each member taking 2 hours out of their day to sit with Logan and talk about this and that. Visitation wasn't just limited to faculty; students would peek in as well. They'd sit with Logan for a while, mostly unable to find anything to say. They'd just stare and let there eyes brim over with tears before excusing themselves and leaving. Jubilee on the other hand would never cry. She'd sit with him, chattering away Busying herself by painting his fingernails different colors just because she could and he couldn't stop her. She'd smack her gum and talk about old times. The only difference today was instead of painting his nails she gently brushed his unruly hair.

"Wolvie, you remember that time I went to that college party and got really drunk?" She said calmly. A small smile spread over her thin lips as she remembered.

"I called you up crying cause I was too drunk to drive and I begged you to come get me and to not tell the professor. You remember that?" She paused as if waiting for a response, the smile faltered some when she didn't get one but she tried to keep her spirits high and her voice steady. She had to be strong for Logan; he wouldn't expect any less of her.

"I don't remember much I was sooo smashed, but I do remember that you didn't yell at me or scream at me. You just came and got me…helped me to my room, got me some water and sat a trashcan next to my bed. Before you left my room that night you stood in the doorway, you looked back at me and I could see so much…disappointment in your eyes. I couldn't even look at you. I never did anything like that again…you know why?"

"Cause you being disappointed in me was punishment enough…"

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that, that instance is when I realized how much I care about what you think of me. Your really the closest thing to…a father I have. I can trust that you'll be there for me when I do the stupid teenage things that come with growing up. I can talk to you about important stuff cause I know…even though you can be kinda harsh sometimes it's for a reason…and you care, but I have to admit that its hard to talk to you when you won't talk back…" Her voice cracked and tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to fight it but they were tears that had been building for weeks.

"Even if you say "'shut yer yap Jubes." I…I won't be mad." She suddenly burst into tears. The dam finally broke. The brush fell from her trembling fingers and clattered to the floor. She covered her face with her hands and just let the tears flow.

"Jubilee, are you still down here?" Jeans voice softly floated into the med lab, the doors swooshed open and she strolled in with a look of concern. She noticed the young Asian right away. Hunched over Logan's medical bed desperately wiping at her eyes in an attempt to hide her weakness. Jeans heart broke, Jubilee was taking it the hardest. The dark bags under her eyes were a testament to that.

"Jubilee, it's late, you should get some rest. You'll be the first person I call if there's any change. Try to get some sleep." Jean said giving her shoulder a squeeze. She didn't acknowledge the tears, Jubilee would feel more comfortable that way.

"Yeah…" was all she said. She gave Logan one last long look. Hoping that maybe at that moment, He'd wake up and tell her that everything would be alright. But it didn't happen and everything wasn't alright and she still missed him and feared he'd never wake up. She stood and shuffled toward the door and Jean watched her retreating form.

"Don't give up Jubilee, we'll figure this out…he's not gone." Jean said and the Asian teen turned and gave a lopsided smile and then left without another word.

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Memories  
Author: Shadowkat83 AKA fanficexpress  
Rating: R  
Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, Slash and MPREG  
Summary: A forgotten tragedy from Logan's past suddenly resurfaces leaving Logan a shell of his former self. Can anyone get through to him?  
****

**P.S. This chapter has been re-uploaded to fix formatting errors!**

Chapter 3: Where is the lost?

"Come in" came a smooth voice and immediately the large oak double doors soundlessly opened. Xavier looked up from his desk, already knowing who was coming but giving a nod and a smile for formality. He smiled at his pupil pleased to see him home well and not worse for the wear.

"How did things go Scott?" The professor asked holding out a hand for Scott to take a chair.

"Things started out fine and then spiraled out of control. I was able to find Anthony McKay and professor I don't really think you prepared me for how much power this kid had. It was completely off the charts." Scott said while taking a seat.

"You saw his abilities first hand I take it."

"Yeah, I saw it up close and personal. The town's people had rallied, deciding the best way to correct the "situation" was to get together and beat the life out of the kid. I stood beside him ready to protect him but he didn't need protecting professor. He closed his eyes lifted his hands and the earth just parted. Swallowed the whole mob up."

"I see. Where is the young man now?"

"After what he did he was so frightened, he just kept staring at his hands. I tried to talk to him, tell him he could come with me and meet others like him but the prospect of being somewhere where there were other "demons" like him didn't sit well with him. He's still holding on to hopes of being "normal". He ended up running away and manipulating everything in his path so I couldn't track him."

"Hmmm, without guidance I fear his abilities will consume him. He's a danger to himself and others. He must be taught to control these abilities and only then can he really pass as "normal" for lack of a better word."

"I tried to tell him that but…I guess I lack your verbal finesse." Scott said with a small rigid smirk and the professor pursed his lips in thought but the friendly banter wasn't lost on him. His eyes twinkled with humor.

"I'll have to use Cerebro to find our run-away mutant once again. We must bring him here. I must speak with him…He can't go on this way." The professor spoke his thoughts out loud and there was a hint of threat. The kid was too dangerous, his abilities too powerful for him to be left alone to his own devices. Manipulating matter at will and not recognizing that there are repercussions to every action, whether good or bad could and has already led to disaster. The professor would order his take down if necessary. Scott hoped to god it wouldn't come to that.

"How's Logan?" Scott said breaking the silence that had befallen the room. The professor sighed heavy at the weighty question. He wheeled his chair over to one of the large windows that let the light pour in.

"No change, I fear the worst. We tried to enter his mind with disastrous results. What I saw was heart wrenching enough but he allowed Jean to see much more. She hasn't been the same since. Quiet, withdrawn and working herself to death in the medlab trying to find a way to wake him up. She said she couldn't let him linger in those memories any longer…she called them "morbidly disturbing"." The professor stared out of his cascading windows, the huge curtains neatly drawn back. The moon shone through the hunter green tree leaves and illuminating his office with lunar light catching his focus as if he was watching something magical and not something that happened everyday when the sun went down. He stared as if watching it long enough would somehow cause it to crack open and spill forth the answers to his questions. How do you fix a wolverine? It wasn't often the professor didn't have the answer. Sometimes he had them but wanted you to figure it out for yourself but nonetheless he had the answer tucked away safely in his mind. This time was different, he couldn't free this man from his torment, a man he had promised to help and the guilt was eating him alive. The professor turned his head slightly and saw the expression on Scott's face. Even without the help of his eyes to convey emotions or feelings he could see a small frown on his lips and the bunching of his brows that signified concern.

"Don't worry about me Scott, you should talk to Jean. Maybe persuade her to get some sleep, she'll listen to you. I need to focus on finding Anthony McKay before more damage is done." He said somewhat lifelessly and Scott hated the tone but respected his words. Scott stood and nodded to the professor deciding it would be best to leave him to his thoughts anyway. If anyone could figure this out it was him. He made his way to the door and as he was reaching for the doorknob the professor spoke again, without turning around and tearing his gaze from the moon.

"Scott, the faculty and many of the students have taken to talking to Logan. Maybe talking to him will trigger his return. There's a war raging inside of him between the man and the beast. Maybe…if we could appeal to the man…" The professor began but Scott interrupted him, something he didn't usually do but hearing a lecture about Logan's seemingly split personalities wasn't something he wanted to hear. No more bad news about Logan's condition…no more dead-ends. Something had to happen…and right now.

"I don't even know what to say to him…I don't think he'd even want to hear from me." Scott said feeling his presence would somehow make things worse. Aggravate his already turbulent mind. He didn't want to make things worse…he wanted things to get better and quick. The gloom in the school was tangible. He could almost taste it in the air.

"Even though you argue and fight Scott. He does respect you as a leader. If he didn't you can trust that he would have left a long time ago. Something is tying him to this place…and amongst other things I think you are one of them." Scott frowned in confusion. He's staying here partly because of me? What the hell did he mean by that? He thought inwardly but outwardly he just stared at the professors back. Something about those words made all his muscles tense. The professor didn't say another word and as soundlessly as Scott had entered he left.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

With a heavy heart Jean sat quietly at the computer in the med lab. She should've been taking her own advice and trying to get some sleep but she just couldn't get her mind to turn off. Information that she had looked over several times before scrolled across the screen as she hoped that maybe she had missed something, maybe the answer was right here. She sighed leaning back in her chair. Blinking away the dryness and itchiness that came from staring at a computer monitor for hours. She knew from her walk in Logan's mind that this issue wasn't a medical one but it was hard for her to accept that there was nothing at all she could do. All her knowledge and skill and yet he still lay there unmoving. Her green eyes finally looked up over her computer monitor and there he was…motionless just like he'd been for the last 2 weeks. Quiet and still like the dead. IV's and monitors hooked to his arms and chest in an attempt to keep him nourished and hydrated and to monitor is vitals. Slowly she rose from her chair as if she made to much noise she'd disturb his slumber. Pushing red curls out of face and unconsciously smoothing out the wrinkles in her lab coat she walked over to Logan's hospital bed and tentatively ran a hand down his muscular arm. It was an intimate touch, she was exploring, touching the man that usually seemed untouchable. With all his flirting, lewd gestures and smirks he was always at arms length, completely impervious like a phantom but now was her chance to really get to know him…touch him, touch the man who had given her so much attention. She traced his arm All the way down to his knuckles where he housed those deadly weapons. No matter how many times she'd seen him unsheathe them they still amazed her and frightened her all at the same time. She watched his bare chest rise and fall. The curly hairs on his chest were different then the hair on his arms and legs. It was downy, thick and looked soft. His facial hair had grown considerably, from whiskers to full beard and his uncontrolled hair could only be described as a mane. She laughed softly at that description, letting the smile linger on her face as she gazed down at him.

"Where are you?" She whispered. Her mind swiftly recalled the horrors she'd witnessed while inside his head. Death, Pain, Horror, desperation…and an overwhelming feeling of longing and regret. The emotions were like a blanket that was smothering her and she blanched at the memory. Her eyes wavered. What had they done? What did it mean? The gunshot seemed to be something important. It was a substantial part of his memory but what exactly did it mean? What did it represent?

"What's going on in there Logan…I don't understand…" she said running a hand along his temple and smoothing his jet black hair behind his ear. His eyes still refused to focus, his features less sharp, and his face peaceful. The hard deep lines that represented his hard life had vanished and what was left was a hairy man that looked years younger. She wondered if it was the hardship alone that was aging him. Would he stay forever young if only the world would let him?

"You've gotta wake up and help me understand." She bit her lip, biting back the emotion.

"I guess I miss you. I didn't realize how much you meant to me…to all of us. You can't just up and quit on us…this isn't like you to just quit." She said tracing his lips with her fingertips wanting nothing more then to map his body. She yearned for his attention and she realized that every time she saw him, every time he was around she'd end up smiling. He'd always find away to make her smile. The playful flirting, was something she had grown to expect and want and watching him come up with sometimes ingenious ways of seeking in an innuendo or elude to something other then purely friendship would cause her to laugh so hard sometimes and he'd just give his usual lopsided smirk back and sometimes she'd even get a gravelly chuckle.

"You knew what you were doing didn't you?" she said trying not to laugh at the memories.

"How's he doing?" Scott said from the doorjamb. Jean turned with a start smiling shyly. How much he had heard and seen she wasn't sure. His mouth was set in a passive line and his eyes were shielded and obscured from view by his visor making his emotions so hard for her to read. Pushing a few strands of her fiery locks, that had shaken loose, behind her ear she looked back to Logan's still form. She loosely crossed her arms and hugged her body as if cold. Scott made his way to her letting his eyes fall on the usually unconquerable man.

"No change…" She said softly. Silence filled the room and an awkwardness rose between them.

"How did the mission go?" She asked out of politeness but in actuality she didn't much care. Her mind was too jumbled. Filled with horrible images and her ears still rang from the gunshot.

"I stopped by the professor's office before I came down and he told me what happened when you entered his mind. You ok?" Scott said ignoring her question and getting to the point. She looked frazzled, tired, and emotionally drained. The bags under her usually pretty green eyes testified to the fact that she hadn't' slept in days.

"To be honest…I don't know if I'll ever be alright after what I saw. Scott I can't even explain the horror, Torture…" Her eyes welled up with tears and she held herself tighter. Scott approached her from behind and gave her a hug, and pondered their sometimes awkward relationship. How come this show of intimacy felt so awkward and out of place? They were on the verge of Love, on the cusp or really caring for each other but something was holding them back. Something unspoken but they could both feel the hesitation to truly let go and take the other into their hearts. Fortunately there friendship had a strong foundation and as their deeper feelings for each other were murky and undefined their knowledge of each other and friendship held strong. Hugging her like this didn't feel intimate…it felt like a friend comforting another. Was that how he should feel in her arms? Should he be feeling more? He was shaken from his thoughts as she continued to murmur, her head low…her face creased in sadness. Her plump cherry lips quivered.

"How could someone do these things to him. How can you just stand by…and listen to him scream and beg? They made a man like Logan beg Scott…" She said all in a rush, in hopes that the tears forming in her eyes wouldn't be reflected in her voice but Scott could hear it. Logan beg? Those two words could never be used snuggled up so closely together. The Wolverine never begged, never cried…what did they do to him? As he embraced Jean he let his rose colored gaze wander. He stared at the ominous machines that beeped and clicked and followed their wiry leads to the man who was literally a shell of his former self. God he looked vulnerable, sick even and Scott frowned. With a big sigh Jean gathered herself and with that Scott came back to his senses as well, blinking away the images of Logan that crept through his mind.

"Jean you look tired. You should try to get some sleep." He whispered into her ear.

"Your right, I know… but I don't want to leave him here alone…He hates hospitals, if he wakes up here alone connected to all this machinery he'll be horrified." She whispered back and they both were unsure why they were whispering at all, as if the man were just in some light sleep, as if he had just dozed off.

"I'll stay with him, I haven't had a chance to talk to him yet." He said with his usual stoicism. Jean gave him an odd look, one that said without words that she didn't' think he'd sit and talk with Logan at all. That there visible disdain for each other would render him unable to sit down for a couple of hours and not choke him to death.

"Don't worry, I think I can handle it…" He waved her off with a reassuring smirk.

"Alright, I'll stop by jubilee's room, she's taking it so hard. Then I'm going up to bed. Maybe some sleep will help me figure this thing out. Call me immediately if there's any change."

"Will do." Scott said giving her hand a lingering squeeze as she began to walk away. She gave him a lopsided smile and they parted company. He watched the medlab doors for a while before allowing himself to come to a full realization of where he was and who he was with. Under normal circumstances being left in a room with the Wolverine would cause him to feel anger and dread but tonight he didn't feel either. He did everything in his power to look everywhere else around the room but at Logan. He searched for a chair and on finding one he dragged it over to Logan's hospital bed. He paused for a second, then turned it around and straddled it, which was going against his usual grain but he decided that his demeanor wasn't on trial here and the more he could relax the easier it would be to talk to the gruff Canadian.

"What to say, what to say…" He spoke rhetorically. What do you say to a man you've spent years despising? He decided to start there.

"Do I really despise you? I don't think I do. I'll admit that I use to hate the way you carry yourself sometimes. All these years here and you still couldn't let down your gruff mask and just relax. These people laying down their lives for you day in and day out and you still look at them as if they could turn there back on you at any second. I guess I thought you could just get over it…that you were purposefully holding on to old wounds because you were too scared to let them go and realize that you actually had friends and people who cared for you. I was being ignorant and I'll admit that. Not everyone's problems are the same and for you every time you release those claws of yours I can see a flash in your eyes, the sour memories of being hurt and violated surfacing. The anger of having something so precious as your memories stripped away from you…I can truly understand how that can enrage you. It would enrage me too. I can't hate you for what you can't control, and you couldn't control what they did to you and how they made you feel. I think I understand you now and why you have such a hard time letting people in. I think I have the same problem, I'm afraid of being hurt and losing control." Scott fell silent after sharing that tidbit of his soul. That was the reason for all his failed relationships. He was too afraid of being hurt, afraid they'd turn there back on him like they use to do a long time ago when he lived alone on the streets and everyone treated him like mutant garbage. He was too afraid of losing control, couldn't let others make decisions. He'd finally managed to control his own life, no longer was he the boy digging for scraps in the gutter, and living at the whim and generosity of others. He refused to let the control he held so dear slip through his fingers…he'd never be that little boy again.

"Come on Logan, you've gotta beat this. If you just lay here then the people who did this to you, caused you whatever pain your suffering through, they win. They win and you lose. You told me once that they wanted you to be nothing more then an animal that they could control. Well these last few years you've made so much progress…you've made so many steps away from what they wanted of you. Just look at what your influence has done for this school." Scott said in exasperation.

"Look at jubilee. When she first got here she was a rebel, a shoplifter, she didn't care about school…she didn't care about much of anything. Then you came along and she seemed to just attach herself to you and instead of pushing her away…you embraced her and look at her now Logan. She's getting good grades, making good decisions and thinking about her future cause she knows there's this big burly ill-tempered Canadian who realizes her potential and expects her to do everything she can to reach it." Nothing, no response. Just the continued beep of his heart monitor. Slow and steady like the tick tock of the second hand on a clock.

"The boys, the ones who use to spend the day skipping classes and spray painted the grounds. They wouldn't listen to authority and were one more citation away from expulsion. Then you came along, they thought they were tough but when they saw you they realized what tough really was. They heard your story, the story of your life through the grape vine and they heard how you persevered. They wanted to be like you, emulate you. They became your shadow and you never pushed them away. Instead you taught them things, ways to express themselves and relieve there pent up aggressions and energy without destroying something. Taught them how to fix cars, cut wood, meditate and gave them some fighting lessons. They appreciate it Logan, and they are in the garage as we speak working on that old Chevy you said you always wanted to get around to. I don't have the heart to tell them it's past curfew. They are doing that as a gift to you when you wake up, to show you how much you've taught them and how much they listened." Scott sighed heavy when again he got no response. Was it foolish of him to think that just talking to him could wake him? Of all the people who could wake him if jubilee couldn't then surly he had a snowballs chance in hell of succeeding.

"I don't know what else to say to you Logan. All I know is that you're a good man under all that bravado and this is not something I'm just saying out of my ass. I do think you are a good man, with morals and honor. It just seems like you could never see that yourself and you'd sell yourself short. I just wish I could do things over; Instead of hating you I'd have liked to get to know you better. Who knows maybe we could have even become friends." Scott smiled at that.

"Can you imagine us friends? I could…I think we have a lot in common. I think we could both teach each other something about living this life. When you wake up I'm gonna take you out for a drink, Let's start this whole thing over again. You and me." He said quietly. He jumped in his chair when the phone suddenly rang. He was in his own little bubble while talking to Logan and the phone brought the world crashing back down around his ears. Smoothing back his hair and giving Logan a lasting look he made his way to the phone.

"Medlab, how can I help you."

"Hey Scott, good to hear your back."

"Oh hey molly, yeah I just got back tonight."

"I called to see how he was doing, I feel so horrible that I can't get down there myself."

"You shouldn't feel bad Molly, you have a newborn to take care of and I know he would understand. We all understand. As for how he's doing. There's been no change." Scott said and she let out a mighty sigh.

"The professor still has hope. He thinks talking to him might help. I'm down here now talking to him…it's hard to see him like this."

"The baby is down right now, would it be okay if you'd hold the phone to his ear…I'd like to say something." She said, her voice shaking.

"Sure, you can start talking now it's to his ear." Scott said positioning the phone to his ear.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

He was in a fish tank. At least that is what it felt like. Suspended in something thick and gooey, that engulfed his whole body and filled his nostrils and mouth. He couldn't breath or swallow and he began to panic. He was frozen still in the dark muddy substance; it was so dense he couldn't even move a finger. He could hear someone talking but the words were muffled by the thick sludge that encompassed him. Over time his ears adjusted and the words became clear. The voice he recognized as Scott's and the familiarity in this unfamiliar setting helped him calm down. He listened, truly hearing what Scott had to say to him. Was he really missed? Did they really want him back? Did he really make that much of a positive influence? He couldn't' believe that he was capable of changing peoples lives for the better. Not a man like him…not a beast. He tried to tune out the invasive voice but it seemed to slice through his dense environment and drill into his ears.

"Shut up" he murmured but the voice kept going, kept rattling off his achievements and telling him how he was a good man. He wasn't a good man! Never was a good man! He wanted to scream…a good man wouldn't let it happen! A good man would have found away to stop it! A good man would have kept her safe! He wasn't a good man, could never be a good man. But he couldn't' think about that now, he wanted to stay here, away from the bad memories. Stay here where it was quiet, away from his cell, away from the torture. As long as he didn't think about it and didn't dwell on it he could stay away from that place and the darkness would protect him. He kept chanting these things in his mind and the murkiness around him grew and expanded with each passing second. His mind started to drift…The words coming from Scott sinking in. Scott telling him he wanted to be his friend. Why he would want something like that he had no idea. Why did these people want him around? Didn't they understand what kinda man he was? Was Scott different, maybe he could look past his demons…maybe they could be friends. Suddenly without warning the voice changed…changed from Scott's voice to a women's shaky voice.

"Molly" he murmured. She pleaded for him to wake up. Apologized for whatever she did that caused his mind to shut down and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't respond back…just to tell her it wasn't her fault. It was low at first and he thought his ears were playing tricks on him but the sound grew…a sound that made every nerve in his body fire. His heart began to race and a panic began to roll over him. The sound of a crying baby, crying and wailing, calling for him. The murky soup he laid in seeming to magnify the sound. It was all around him. He cringed at the sound and images from long ago filled his mind once again and the thick murkiness thinned and changed from pitch black to a bright red. A sea of blood and he was drowning in it. He gasped and flailed, swimming as hard as he could to the surface. His once quiet world was changing and the liquid surrounding him began to swirl as if the plug in a drain below had been unplugged and everything was rushing toward it. The shrilling baby continued to drill into his brain. If he could reach the source before it quieted…maybe he could right what went wrong. Maybe he could save her! He swam so hard but there was no surface to be found and the pull from below was growing. His muscles burned from the stain and his lungs felt like they were going to burst but he refused to fail again.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Scott could hear the sounds of a baby crying over the phone. With hesitation he removed the phone from Logan's ear and put it to his own. There was more then one person crying on the line and his heart reached out to Molly.

"Molly, you still wanna talk or do you need to go check on the baby?" Scott said quietly, feeling he had intruded on a private moment.

"Yes I need to go. Tell Logan I'll come visit when I can and that I love him please…" She said before abruptly hanging up. She didn't want him to hear her cry. The position she carried demanded she be strong in everything she did…in many respects she was just like him. He stared at the phone awhile before hanging it up on Jean's cluttered desk. Palms flat on the desk he leaned over her scattered paperwork, all the notes she had written, all the work she had put into just one man. Sadness had been the emotion he felt since he stepped into the infirmary but now anger was replacing it.

"Jesus Logan, if you only knew how much we care! If only you knew how much I care…" He said feeling a swirl of emotion he wasn't ready for, a feeling in the pit of his stomach that rose and became a lump in his throat at the very idea of losing Logan. With a balled fist he pounded the desk and stood with the full intentions of storming over to Logan's bed and shaking him awake but that's when he heard it. The moan, more like a whimper or a plea. He began to move, struggle against something that wasn't there. His eyes panning the room for something but he wasn't seeing what was there…he was seeing something different, something frightening in his minds eye. His breathing became erratic and the high-pitched beeps from his heart monitor speed up. Scott immediately sent out a psychic alarm to both Jean and the Professor. Something jean had taught him how to do a long time ago but he had to focus to do it. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

/He's moving, he's awake/

/We're on our way/ Jean quickly responded. With relief Scott opened his eyes and looked at the hospital bed but there was no one there. His heart skipped a beat. The tossled bed was empty and the leads from the monitors laid this way and that. He slowly scanned the room, knowing better then to make a quick movement, who knows what kind of state Logan's mind would be in. He suddenly felt a looming presence from behind and hot breath on his neck. Scott froze. The warning rumble that rose from his throat told Scott that the Canadian wasn't himself. SNICKT . Scott swallowed hard at that hair-raising sound.

"Logan?"

"Where is she…Tell me where she is!" He roared, Snarling and spitting. Scott slowly turned with his hands up in an unthreatening manner. His eyes fell on the hairy mutant, his once peaceful face now contoured. His hair fanning out around his shoulders. The muscles in his arms and legs tight with tension and he crouched low. His claws fully extended. His nostrils flared as he took in Scott's scent and slightly rocked back and fourth.

"I don't know who your talking about Logan….I'm sorry…tell me who your talking about and I'll help you." Scott said slowly and calmly hoping his tone of voice would help calm the wolverine but it did nothing of the sort. It started out as a rumble deep in his chest but as his anger built it became a monstrous roar and then without further warning he lunged.

TBC….

Logan's finally awake! What's gonna happen next?


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Memories  
Author: shadowkat83 AKA fanficexpress  
Rating: R  
Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, Slash and MPREG  
Summary: A forgotten tragedy from Logan's past suddenly resurfaces leaving Logan a shell of his former self. Can anyone get through to him?

**P.S. This chapter has been re-uploaded to fix formatting errors!**

/ Telepathic conversation/

Chapter 4: Delusion

In a flash Scott found himself on his back, the thick Canadian straddling him and the full weight of his adamantium frame felt like it would crush his pelvis. Logan Snarled with one hand palm down on his chest and the other raised high, claws fully extended, ready to strike. The Wolverine's eyes glazed over with anger and all hope of reasoning with those eyes died in Scott's throat. He didn't even have time to struggle, Logan had tackled him so fast he had lost his equilibrium and by the time he got it back all he saw was Logan's sinister face and the glint of 3 razor sharp claws poised to strike right through his Ruby visor and in-between his eyes. Logan's lips curled back to show his Canines and his hot breath licked at Scott's face. He leaned closer to ask one more time.

"Tell me where she is…your not gonna keep her away from me again…not again!" What little patience Logan still held onto was quickly running thin and the deep lines that creased his features deepened in pace with his building rage.

"I don't know who your talking about…describe her for me. Tell me what she looks like. I can help you find her but I need to know who I'm looking for." Scott said. He had to stall for time. At this close a range He was sure Logan would skewer him before he could even reach his visor to let out a quick blast. In fact, Logan was so close it was hard to tell where Scott ended and Logan began. Logan just stared at him, trying to decide whether he was lying or playing stupid. How come he didn't know about her? Logan suddenly shook his head in exasperation. Of course he knew! They all knew! They all did it! He had to find her and this man with the strange glasses was his only hope. His stare turned dangerous and the hand that held Scott down balled taking his shirt with it and with a brutal hoist Logan got up and heaved Scott with him. His claws were pressed into his lower back. One muscular arm set tense around his throat. He had returned to his Weapon X days and Scott was more then aware that his chances of survival at this point were slim to none. Panic began to well up in his brain as the powerhouse of a man stood pressed up against him. A thick musk rolled off of him, a very unique scent, like sexual pheromones and Scott found himself reacting to it and secretly berated himself.

/Scott what's going on? I can feel so much rage and confusion coming from Logan…I can't even reach him, only his feral mind./ The professor's voice sliced through the static in Scott's brain. Scott flushed slightly at the mental intrusion.

/He doesn't recognize me. He keeps asking me where "she" is. I'm stalling for time but it's not gonna work forever…If I don't show him where this "imaginary' person is he's gonna kill me./ Scott rushed out under distress but tried to stay as calm as possible. His mentor noticed the slight edge of terror in his voice and decided that moving faster was something he really needed to do. The mental link grew quiet and Scott was snatched back to reality by Logan's husky voice.

"Don't play dumb, take me to her. You scream I'll kill you. You try to run, I'll kill you, and if your taking me on some wild goose chase, I'll kill you slow." Logan hissed into Scott's ear as his claws pressed a little deeper into the tender flesh of his lower back. Scott jerked forward, painfully arching his back.

/We are close, Try to get Logan into the hallway, I'm sure that talking won't resolve this issue, I'm afraid force is necessary. Scuffling in the Medlab surrounded by all that heavy machinery isn't wise. The hallway would be best./

/I'll do what I can…/

"If you want me to find anyone…we first have to get out of this med lab." Scott hissed back at Logan. Scott took a hesitant step and Logan followed suit, his eyes jumping from right to left. With every step Logan would take in a long drag through his nostrils, testing the air. Scott new for sure that as soon as he stepped through those doors he'd smell Jean and the professor approaching and nine times out of ten they had called for the other x-men to assemble as back up. Taking Logan down without killing him would be a feat. He was the kind of man that wouldn't' stop coming for you unless he was on the brink of death and even then you'd still have to watch your back. They approached the Metallic automatic doors and it swooshed open. A rush of cool crisp air flooded the once stifling room. Logan stiffened and his head snapped to the left. His nostrils flared and a growl rumbled in his chest like the sound of a volcano about to erupt. He quickly backtracked, yanking his hostage with him. Scott got a small glimpse of his team mates crouched at the far end of the corridor. Logan's reaction caused them to scrap plan A and turn to plan B, which seemed to be running for the door full throttle.

"You think I'm stupid! They are waiting for me I can smell them!" He roared. He stepped back far enough that the doors swooshed closed and with one angry swipe of his claws he destroyed the keypad and sensor that allowed the doors to open. The echoing patter of hard-soled boots hitting the metallic ground was all they could hear as Scott's rescue squad reached the broken door. They were baffled when it didn't open on their approach and even more so when it wouldn't respond to their pass codes.

"Logan…" Scott croaked as Logan's meaty arm tightened around his throat. The beast within him budding and he was having trouble thinking things through. He shook his head in confusion.

"Shut up…"

"Logan…"Scott tried again.

"SHUT UP!" Logan roared. Taking the arm that was once around his throat and grabbing a handful of Scott's hair he wrenched his head back with such force his Visor slipped out of place. Stifling a gasp Scott immediately closed his eyes grimacing and realizing that he was at even more of a disadvantage now. Logan grunted, ripping the shades the rest of the way off his face and tossing them in the corner. Scott could hear the clatter as they hit the floor. Logan held him like that for awhile. Scott could sense movement and the displacement of the air in front of his face and deduced that Logan was waving his hand in front of him and testing to see if he could see. He snorted, blowing out a huge breath.

"Open your eyes…" Logan demanded.

"I can't…I'm blind without that visor."

"Blind." Logan muttered to himself. This man was blind and at his mercy and the stink of fear permeated from every pour. The stink of fear and something else, something along the lines of interest, sexual interest. The scent confused him, was this man crazy?

/Scott we can't get in, this is Shiar technology…even if there is a way to override the system the only person on Earth that would know how is Hank and after that falling out with Ororo, I'm not sure he'd even be willing to take our call./ It was Jean this time.

/Even if he was willing to help…I don't think I have that much time. / Scott grounded out. With Logan so close he felt paranoid that some how he would pick up on the fact that he was holding a secret conversation.

/You have to find out who this girl is, That's the only way you can get through to him. Find out why she's so important to him…we'll work on getting you out on this end! You work to stay alive/ She abruptly ended the mental link and Scott was left to himself.

"I've gotta find her…gotta protect her…" Logan said randomly and Scott thanked god for the opening to talk.

"Gotta protect who?" Scott asked. The mutant behind him tensed shoving him forward. What danger was a blind man anyway? Logan let down his guard a little. Watching the sightless man flail his arms to stay upright and then freeze in the middle of the room.

"You know who…don't play this game with me." Logan murmured then took to walking around the medlab for another way out. Scott stood in the middle of the Medlab. He was disoriented; he knew the school front and back blind. He had mapped it when he first arrived before Xavier was able to develop his visor technology. This was different though. He always had an exact starting place, but there was nothing he could touch and nothing he could feel to tell him where exactly he was in the medlab. He reached out taking baby steps with his palms extended forward hoping to come in contact with something that would clue him in.

"My little girl…." Logan muttered to Scott's right and out of habit Scott turned his head toward the sound even though he couldn't see.

"Your daughter?" Scott asked just for clarification.

"I didn't even get a chance to hold her…The doctor took her away." The voice was small, the gruffness had left. Also the voice was no longer moving. It was stationary to his far right and he could feel the eyes burning into him.

"I have to find her!…find her before…" Suddenly the panic was back in Logan's voice. His eyes widened in realization, as if he'd just remembered what he was after. Logan stormed to the double doors and began to claw at it. Damn the people waiting for him on the other side, he'd just have to fight them, strike them all down to find his daughter.

"Before what Logan…find her before what?" Scott had to keep him talking, Stall for more time.

"Stop pretending as if you don't know what's going on!" Logan had had enough. He stormed over to Scott, surprising the younger man by grabbing him roughly by the shoulders and pushing his backward until his back slammed into the wall.

"Don't fuck with me! I have nothing to lose." Logan spat.

"I'm not pretending or "fucking with you" I'm not one of the doctors. I'm like you, a mutant. My abilities are in my eyes, I can't open them without the visor or things will get really bad in here." Scott said with his eyes screwed shut. He looked young and vulnerable without the clunky instrument he kept strapped across his eyes. His mouth was slightly agape and his chin was tilted upward as if he were stressing all his other senses, trying desperately to make sense of the world around him.

"You don't look like one of the doctors." Logan said more rhetorically then anything else.

"Because I'm not a doctor, I could never do the things that they've done to you…I want to help but I need to know what's going on." Scott said.

"The doctor took the baby away. Wanted to see if it had the same abilities as me but when he found out it was a girl…not a boy. He told me he wanted a boy…but it was a girl. A little baby girl…"Logan's mind lost cohesion. He lost track of his thoughts and his eyes glazed over as he reminisced on things long forgotten. Scott could feel his arms go slack and fall to his sides.

"What happened…tell me what happened Logan." Scott asked. His mind reeling at all the horrors that could have occurred and feared hearing what actually happened. His brow furrowed a little in thought. Logan made no mention of the Childs mother…no mention at all, He hadn't even eluded to the presence of another just his daughter and him. Was he missing something?

"He shot her…in front of me. 'Cause it was a girl…not a boy. He wanted a boy…but it was a girl. Blood everywhere." He shakingly repeated that line again and again. Scott shivered at how haunted his voice sounded.

"Oh my god Logan…oh my god…" There was nothing else to say. Nothing else to say. The urge throw up was overwhelming.

"But I heard her crying. I heard her…she's still here! She's here and I have to find her before they get to her. They haven't done it yet…I have one more chance!" Logan screamed out, leaving the sorrow behind and replacing it with the all to familiar rage. He stormed the door once again. Growling and foaming at the mouth. His hair wet with sweat, his shirtless chest glistening and heaved with aggression as he battered the door, screaming at his teammates on the other side. He was losing it, his emotions switching dangerously between sorrow and anger, hope and defeat. Once he realized his claws were doing nothing but scratching the surface he retracted them deciding to use his bare knuckles. He punched at the unyielding door. Scott could hear the wet sound of bloody torn knuckles smashing against metal. Blood dripped down the door as Logan continued, unconscious of the state of his hands or the blood loss. Scott didn't know what to do, he couldn't think of anything he could say to alleviate Logan's pain and it hurt him that he was powerless. The leader of the X-men didn't have the answer…couldn't fix this. Couldn't fix a teammate, a friend. Uselessness.

/Scott, I heard everything through the mind link. This isn't going to end, he'll keep looking for her…he's going to have to realize that she's gone. Only then can we help him./ The professor spoke up.

/professor…/ Scott said. Glad he wasn't alone and glad he didn't have to deal with the sadness on his own but taken aback by the professor's bluntness. This situation was disgusting in every sense of the word and Scott wasn't sure whether he should cry or scream.

/I know Scott, this is the most heinous of crimes. Killing a child, a defenseless baby. I can't even imagine the grief he must feel but he can't go on this way. These feelings have to be dealt with and they can't if he's trapped in this delusional state. I fear there is only one way to bring an end to this./ The professor waited for Scott's acknowledgement but he got no response.

/Gathering from what Logan has just said and from what Jean has told me from her walk in Logan's mind the sound of a gunshot should end this delusion. /

/Do you know what that's gonna do to him! He's gonna have to relive that horror all over again/

/Scott he's already reliving it…we are going to stop this…and then we are going to help him pick up the pieces./ The professor said matter-a-factly.

/I think this is our only chance Scott. I got in contact with Hank and he's coming as fast as he can, but it'll still be hours before he can get here. We're gonna have to defuse this situation and I think this is the only way. / Jean chimed in and activity on the other side of the door froze. The sudden hush in the hallway caught Logan's attention and he stopped banging at the door and just listened, puzzled. Quiet loomed over them as the weight of Scott's decision, secret to Logan, was laying like a wet blanket over everyone caught in the tense situation. Scott hung his head.

/Alright…do it./

TBC…

Author's note: I took some liberty here with the whole "Shiar technology" thing. I know the danger-room is Shiar Technology and some of there bigger medical instruments are so I took it a little further and wrote in that the whole medlab was creating using Shiar technology. (Which is an alien race for all those who don't know).


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Memories  
Author: shadowkat83 AKA fanficexpress  
Rating: R  
Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, Slash and MPREG  
Summary: A forgotten tragedy from Logan's past suddenly resurfaces leaving Logan a shell of his former self. Can anyone get through to him?

**P.S. This chapter was re-uploaded to fix formatting errors.**

Chapter 5: confront the confrontation

The smoke and smell of several types of sin billowed forth when he opened the heavy wooden door. It was that typical smell, the smell of people doing everything in their power to forget. The music was loud and obnoxious and the patrons weren't too happy to see him and abruptly stopped whatever they were doing to show their disapproval. They frowned and grunted at the brown haired, fair skinned young man with ruby tinted shades who strolled through the sticky, liquor-coated door. He just stood quietly in the doorway, Rain trickling down his trench coat. His brown eyes surveyed the bar, which was filled with bikers, truckers, and the usual tattooed loners. He knew he'd find Logan here; this was his place of refuge when he felt down and out. He could grovel here and become part of the crowd. He didn't have to speak to anyone, everyone understood his pain and his need to overindulge to feel something other then hurt. It was the quiet acceptance this place offered that he craved. The cold silence soon let up and their attention fell back to their drinks. It wasn't hard for him to spot Logan. The puddle on the floor at his feet was a clear sign of a recent addition to the bar who had stood outside and felt the heaven open up, seemingly just for him. Then there was the trademark scowl and curl of his lip and last but not least the cloud of acrid smoke that wafted from the cigar clamped tight between his dog-like canines. He hadn't looked up but he was sure he knew he was there. He wasn't sure what he was going to say, he just knew that Logan shouldn't be left alone no matter how hard he demanded it.

"This seat taken?"

"What does it look like, one eye?" Logan cut back. Scott realized he wasn't in the mood for small talk but didn't really expect him to be, not after what happened.

XOXOXOXOXOXOX

Even though he was ready for it, it still caught him by surprise. The sound was so loud and devastating. It cut through the air and everything hushed. Panic welled up in Scott's heart as he realized that Logan had yet to make a sound, yet to react. Scott's ears couldn't pick up any movement or sounds and he wished to god in heaven that he had his visor. What state would he be in? What would happen to his mind? Would he go feral? Scott swallowed hard trying in vein to tame his heartbeat.

"No…" Scott heard the disembodied murmur. He opened his mouth to say something but was there anything he could say?

"No…please…"The hollow voice uttered, His breathing came out in frightful gasps and dry-heaves. There was a sharp bang that made Scott jump and skin crawl. Logan's fist collided with the door one last time before he slid to the floor. He curled into a ball hugging his knees and that's when Scott heard something he thought he'd never hear. Not from the wolverine. Not from the toughest son of a bitch to ever walk god's green earth.

"Logan…I'm so sorry." He said blindly shuffling his way toward the sound, the sound of sadness and frustration. The floodgates had opened and Logan had finally broken down. He cried, He wept; he pleaded and asked why things had to be the way they were. Delirious in his sadness he rambled and choked on his tears. Scott reached the automatic doors and felt along the cold expanse of metal, his hands ran across something wet and congealed but he wouldn't let his mind dwell on what it was. His hands finally landed on the hard packed shoulder of his fellow teammate. It slightly bobbed and Scott lowered himself and did the only thing he could think to do. The only thing he had left once stripped of his visor, the personification of his leadership. He hugged him, a tight embrace that prompted Logan to cry even harder.

/Scott…/ the professor cut in.

/Not now…not now./Scott said and the professor respectfully left his mind.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Logan stared hard at the man beside him, seemingly lost in thought. His scent had changed, he had come with such determination but it had faltered. Now he felt pity and sadness radiating off of him. The pungent stink of pity ground on Logan's nerves.

"If ya gonna just stand there starin' off inta space you should just button up that fancy coat of yers and get the hell outta here." Logan drawled through a very obvious scowl. Scott had found the angrier Logan got the more prone he was to lose his finer English skills. What had made him so angry he wasn't sure, but Scott assumed his emotions were out of whack. He looked down at his coat. He hadn't realized his trench was considered fancy but from looking at the other regulars he could see how he stood out. Logan went to pour himself another mug from his pitcher and Scott sat next to him ignoring Logan's disapproving grunt.

"Logan…"

"Don't or I'll kill ya. I'm here to relax, don't go fucking it up feelin' sorry fer me." Logan spat and as quickly as the conversation had begun it had been squashed. The two sat in mutual silence. The hairy mutant watched the game on the large screen behind the bar with lackluster enthusiasm while he tossed back drink after drink. Scott noticed his hands shook when his eyes glazed over, looking right through the TV; Flashing back to something haunting, scary, taunting. He'd shake it away, mumble something under his breath about not being a real man and took a couple more swigs of cheap bourbon and even cheaper beer. Mixing the two seemed like a lethal combination, and Scott's stomach turned just watching him. Logan noticed his pitcher was empty and angrily called for the bartender, waving his massive hand in the air. She sauntered over looking like a goth angel with raven hair and plump ruby lips. Her Jeans hugging her hips just right and her shirt clung to every curve her mother gave her. Logan didn't even give her a second look, He was preoccupied with getting some more liquid cyanide. Scott watched as Logan's Threatening glare became even more lethal as the bartender leaned over the bar in front of Scott instead of him..

"You gonna drink or are you here just ta take up space from my payin' customers, huh?" She said with a tight frown, pursing her lips. She leaned over the bar giving Scott a good eyeful of ample cleavage that he had to take time to appreciate..

"Oh, let me just have two of whatever he's having." Scott thumbed at Logan and ignored the menacing yet puzzled look he was getting from his teammate. He knew what he was thinking. Fearless leader of the x-men drinking? Are pigs flying? Scott let a small smile creep over his face.

"It's your funeral." She smirked while she made the drinks. Her arms seemed to be on autopilot and in less than 30 seconds she set two large drinks in front of Scott.

"Hey bartenda'! How long am I gonna hav' ta wait here, huh?" A raunchy biker bellowed from the far end of the battered bar.

"Your gonna wait as long as I want ya ta wait!" She shouted back but with a smile. She made her way to the other side of the bar where the men were crowded and rowdy, waving their money and making lewd comments. Without turning to Logan he slid one of the drinks down the bar to him.

"Here"

"I got my own money. I can get my own drinks." Logan muttered.

"I promised I'd buy you a drink when you woke up from the coma. I'm just making good on that promise." Scott said with a straight face, a meaningful serious stare. Logan reached out and took the offered glass and Scott diverted his attention to his own liquid death. Logan just stared at his glass, watching the amber liquid slosh in the confines of the glass made his mind drift back to the horror his mind had put him through. Then he remembered everything Scott had said about him with stark clarity. Was he really a good man? Had he really impacted people's lives in a good way? Did the man sitting next to him really see him as a valuable part of the team? Did he really want to get to know him…even after what he did, or rather what he didn't do? Logan squeezed the cup and his eyes closed. It couldn't be possible. He let a child die, he let his child die. A real man would have found a way to save her.

"Surprised..." Scott finally said breaking Logan out of the depression he could feel him slipping back into.

"What?"

"I'm just surprised you didn't drop one of your token pick up lines on the barkeep. She looks like your type." Scott said with a smirk. Logan Stared at Scott with those deep, passionate, soul searching eyes that made Scott shiver then Snorted.

"Yeah, well, she looks alright but she looks like the kinda girl you gotta win over and I'm not much in the mood for cat and mouse.." He growled out draining his glass and slamming it back onto the bar. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then ran his fingers through his hair.

"Ah, not in the mood for pleasantries then?" Scott was smiling, his voice coated with humor and sarcasm.

"I like to get down to business. Fuck that dinner and a movie stuff."

"Your serious aren't you?"

"As a heart attack." Logan nodded. But there was a slight turn of his lips that let Scott know that he was serious but could find the humor. They sat in companionable silence after there exchange but soon that silence grew heavy and someone had to break the ice.

"What are you doing here Cyclops? This isn't your kinda dive. You here to baby-sit? The professor sent you? Or did jean?" Logan questioned, emphasizing his code-name to reassert their non-friendship. He put up a divider, too afraid to get close.

"They advised me not to come, Wolverine." He said throwing his informal name right back at him.

"I came because I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Always the boy scout." The feral mutant said with a huff. Shifting to stand as if he couldn't stand to sit next to Scott any longer. Scott reached over and laid a hand on his shoulder halting his escape.

"No, always a friend."

"Since when have we been friends." He said growling at the intrusion on his personal space and then forcefully brushing his hand away.

"Not sure, I know I consider you a friend now though." There was a strange seriousness to Scott's face that caught Logan by surprise. The younger man was talking to him from his heart. Logan could tell the difference between a lie or a statement made out of pity or remorse and He could tell that this statement was heart felt. Logan gritted his teeth but decided to stay. He re-positioned himself on the barstool and waved the barkeep over for another drink.

"I heard you…" Logan muttered.

"What?"

"I heard what you said to me, when I was in the coma. When you said all those good things about me. I don't believe you."

"I meant every word of it."

"You don't know me…What I've done. Hell, I don't even know what I've done. It's impossible for me to be all those good things. Not after I couldn't save her!" The anger was rising within him again. He'd have to show him what kind of man he really was.

"Tell that to jubilee, and all the boys that you've taken under your wing since your stay here. And while you're at it tell that to Maggie and the professor. Should I go on?" Scott was always growing angry. Why couldn't Logan just accept that he had a family back at the mansion that loved and cared for him.

"No…"

"Your selling yourself short. You have a huge network of people who care about you. We want to help. What happened to your daughter isn't' your fault! I know your hurting but sitting here drinking yourself into oblivion isn't going to solve the problem!"

"Solve the problem? As if this is some fucking algebra equation that has a solution! You can't fucking solve for "Y" and everything is right again! Fuck you summers…" Logan finally erupted. He angrily chugged the drink the bartender had set in front of him, clamped his stubby cigar between his teeth and made his way to the door with long angry strides. Scott wasn't far behind, trying to catch up to him, he couldn't let him go. He may never come back and the thought of Losing Logan forever hurt his soul. By the time Scott had reluctantly paid the massive tab at the bar and maneuvered through the crowd to make it outside Logan was half way to his bike. The rain was coming down so hard that it felt like god had tipped over a sky-sized bucket. Rain dripped down his face and his hair was shaggy in his eyes. He wiped the loose strands out of his field of vision and screamed at Logan's retreating form.

"What you're doing right now is running away! I know how you feel!"

"You can't possibly know how I feel!" Logan yelled back not bothering to turn around. He was gone, It was final. No need for discussion. He couldn't go back. Not after what happened. How could he face the team again. He knew the word had spread by now, They would all know he had had a daughter that he let die. They shot her while he watched and he never got a chance to even hold her. That seemed the cruelest of it all, never having the chance to hold her, put his scent on her, mark her and make her his. It tore him up inside knowing she died without know him and ever primal part of his being screamed at him for not protecting his family, his unit, his pack.

"Then explain it to me!" Scott shot back jogging across the muddy parking lot to catch up with Logan. He reached out and grabbed his muscular arm. Logan whirled around sending water twirling with him. The anger and frustration apparent on his face. His chest heaved as if he was at the very cusp of losing control.

"You wouldn't understand…" He sneered, dangerously hissing in Scott's face but he held his ground. He wasn't scared of Logan, in fact he understood Logan's pain and he was going to prove it.

"Try me." Scott said just as forcefully and maneuvered himself between Logan and his bike.

"Get. The. Fuck. Outta my way." Logan said slowly, balling his fist. Shaking with anger.

"Not until you stop acting like a little bitch." Scott said crossing his arm.

"What did you just call me?" His eyes flashed. He widened his stance. His teeth grinding, His eyes turning smokey black like storm clouds about to erupt.

"I called you a selfish, scared little bitch, running away from his problems and leaving everyone who's ever taken the time to get to know him worried sick!" This time Scott was poking him in his chest. Logan was taken aback. Was he purposely bating him? His anger finally boiled over and Scott could see the change. It was like a switch was flipped. His eyes became lifeless orbs, wide and unsettling. His lip curled back into this sinister grin and the rainwater dripped off of his sharp canines. His shoulders curled forward and he growled low. Crouching he stood ready to pounce.

"You wanna know how I feel, Scotty…want me to share?" The sound of his voice sent shivers through Scott. He could feel the power pouring off of the man standing so close to him. Logan took the one step forward that eclipsed the space between them. Now his packed muscles were pressed snug against him. He could feel the older mans chest rumble as he growled. Scott's breathing caught. He bit his lip willing his body to calm down, surprised at how his body was reacting to Logan's presence. With a sharp intake through his nose Logan inhaled the younger man, laying his nose against his vulnerable neck. Scott could feel the rough whiskers of Logan's ever growing beard brush against his cheek. The Hairy mutant grunted then let his lips part once again into a dangerous smirk. Could Logan tell how aroused he was? Scott thought with panic. Then Logan just stared and Scott found himself lost him his eyes finally realizing that he was waiting for him to answer his question. Did he want to know how he felt?

"Yeah…I wanna know how you feel." Scott said breathlessly. If it was even possible for Logan to get even closer he did. Pinning Scott firmly between him and his bike. Scott watched Logan's lips as the feral curl disappeared and his face became more neutral. The thin masculine lips of Logan, slightly parted, The rain water seeming to trace every curve and slope of his face. His clothes clung to every possible muscle and his hair framed his face. Scott's lips parting in anticipation of Logan's lips pressed against his so hard they bruise. Then it happened. In a flash Logan's fist met with Scott's abdomen with no mercy. Scott yelped immediately curling forward, holding his stomach. His knees buckled and he slumped to the ground.

"That's how I feel, That's how I fucking feel! You can take that back to the mansion and share." Logan growled out and stepped over the writing man on the ground. He hopped on his bike. Taking the time to light a cigar from his pocket that was slightly soggy from the rain. Scott balled his fists. He was embarrassed, his pride demanded he do something and lightening fast he was on his feet. He lunged at Logan full force causing them both to topple to the ground coating them with mud and dirt. That was it. It was on and someone was gonna die tonight. Logan's explosive feral rage against Scott's red-hot optic blasts. They fought long and hard but as Scott suspected no matter what he did he couldn't keep the Wolverine down. He was getting tired, getting sloppy and the anger and humiliation he had felt before had left 15 minuets into the fight. Finally it was the last showdown. Scott was too tired and couldn't go on anymore. They stood on either side of the lot, panting. Logan came at Scott with claws fully extended. He charged with surprising speed and Scott had to make a split second decision. He didn't have time to measure he quickly reached up and tore off his shades sending a wide burst at Logan. Through the haze of red Scott could see he was too late, Logan was already on him and as the blast hit him square in the chest Logan extended his arm and took a powerful swipe racking his claws across Scott's chest before being hurled with deadly force down the parking lot. Groggily readjusting his sunglasses Scott put a hand against his chest and was greeted with warm blood. The adrenaline wouldn't let him feel the pain but the shortness of breath told him all he needed to know.. Scott moaned and fell to his knees holding his chest with one hand and bracing himself with the other. He heard and long moan come from the distance and he knew that Logan or should he say the wolverine was coming back to his senses. A moan and then a wet gurgle of someone's whose lungs were filled with blood rattled his bones. He could hear thick-soled boots sloshing through the mud toward him. He didn't have the energy to move. His survival instincts kicked in but he could muster enough energy to even look up. A shadow loomed over him in silence. He could hear the distinct sound of knitting flesh and labored lungs.

"Let's get back to the mansion. Jean needs ta patch you up." Logan said, no longer did he have the dangerous edge to his voice. Scott ground up the energy to Look up and found Logan hunched over and unsteady. The grotesque wound on his chest slowly closing but from the way he was swaying Scott assumed there were some internal injuries his body needed to take care of as well.

"Your not looking to hot yourself." Scott slurred. His world was going dark and he looked down at the puddle of blood, water, and mud he had made around himself. Logan bent down to help the younger man up almost toppling over.

"Not feelin' to hot. Whatcha do, hit me full blast? You really were out for blood. Didn't know you had it in ya." Logan struggled in saying as he heaved Scott off the ground and put his arm around his shoulder. Steadying him, they made the slow walk to Logan's bike.

"Had to knock some sense into you." Scott said with a delirious grin.

"Or kill me trying…" Logan snorted trying to keep the conversation light. Trying not to show how worried he was about the amount of blood Scott had lost and about possible infection. His mind cleared as he stared at his bike in bewilderment, it took some time to figure out how he was going to manage getting the mortally wounded X-man home.

"Scott, you gonna have to stay awake and hold on ta me or your gonna fall off this bike. Alright?" With a tentative nod and a grimace at the rumble of the bike when it started up Scott snaked his arms around Logan's waist and held on as tight as his exhausted muscles would allow. Logan slowly made his way out of the parking lot and onto the road. The rain hadn't let up one bit so their ride was slow and long. He could feel the blood from Scott's wound soaking into his back and the younger man's grip loosening.

"Stay with me Scott! We're almost there!" He yelled over the roar of the bike. If Scott died tonight he'd die with him. He wouldn't be able to live with himself. This man had done nothing but try to extend his hand to him in friendship and he had all but chopped it off. This is the man who had witnessed something he had only let one other see. Scott had seen him cry. He found himself growing angry with Scott for egging him on. What was he trying to prove? Then he remembered his scent. The scent of lust and arousal that seemed to emanate from his every pour. The scent was inviting. He had used it against him because it frightened him but now he found himself wanting to smell it again instead of blood and dirt.

"Fucking boy scout." He muttered as he pulled into the driveway of Xavier's school for gifted youngsters.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Memories

Author: shadowkat83 AKA fanficexpress

Fandom: X-men

Rating: R

Chapter: 6

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, Slash and MPREG

Summary: A forgotten tragedy from Logan's past suddenly resurfaces leaving Logan a shell of his former self. Can anyone get through to him?

**P.S. This chapter was re-uploaded to fix formatting errors.**

Chapter 6: Primal

The mansion's residents were restless. Both Scott and Logan had been gone for hours and the anxiety was rising. Deciding that playing a friendly game of cards would keep the worry away the older member of the X-team assembled around the large polished table in the lounge. Poker was the game of choice and Gambit of course was the ringleader, taking the time to teach the ladies the way the game was played. His enchanted red on black eyes shined as he explained the rules and Jean noticed how he seemed to live for this feeling of usefulness and being knowledgeable. Seeing the Cajun's enthusiasm lightened Jean's worries and she fell into the spirit of the game. Also she realized that fretting and wringing her hands wasn't going to help matters. Bellied up to the table Remy, Rouge, Jean, Beast and Storm playfully shifted their gaze between each other trying their best to bluff the other out of their money.

"Remy 'tink you play this before." Remy finally said casting Jean a smirk as she reached for the large pile of coins and 1-dollar bills.

"No, I'm just a quick study." She said with a wink. Her smile was dazzling as she eyed her money. She had won the last 4 hands and her pile of money was noticeably bigger then everyone else's.

"Why Remy don't believe you?" He said crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair.

"Shut up Cajun and play the game." Jean spat with mock anger giving his shoulder a swat.

"Cher, Remy 'tink you hung around dat feral too long." Remy said jokingly but the table grew quiet and the mood fell solemn. How could she be enjoying herself when she knew the horrors that were going through Logan's mind? How could she forget the danger Scott could be in chasing after him? Logan had always been unpredictable at best and emotionally unstable, god only knew what he was capable of in the state he was presently in. Why Scott chased after Logan like that she couldn't understand. They had never been friends. They were rarely even cordial. They had a very curt relationship and the way they spoke to each other showed nothing but disdain. She could always feel an underlying hum of respect generating between the too, so quiet and deep in there subconscious she wasn't even sure they knew about it. The real question was when had that sprout of respect bloomed into something bigger? Furthermore, how big had it grown? She shook her head and shivered thinking about how twisted things had become between the two of them. She had begged Scott not to go and for the first time in their relationship…he just wouldn't listen.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"Logan, can you hear me?" Beasts gentle voice probed. Logan sat frightfully still. His eyes were wide with panic. Scott readjusting the visor beast had thankfully retrieved for him and adjusted himself in a crouched position so he could look directly into Logan's bloodshot eyes. The team slowly filtered into medlab each looking at Logan's disheveled state warily. Jean was the first to speak.

"Scott are you ok?" She said with concern making steps to be by his side but he quickly raised his hand and shushed her, keeping his attention on the unstable man pressed against the blood splattered medlab doors.

"Hey, It wasn't your fault…" Scott said softly and Logan's unfocused eyes finally focused on chocolate brown ones. He wanted to hear that. He needed to hear it. He hoped to god it wasn't his fault but the beast inside him wouldn't take any excuses. He'd lost the only family he had and it couldn't be anyone's fault but his own. Logan looked down at himself half surprised. Finding himself sitting on the cold floor, a mess of a man. He didn't even have the energy to stand and his eyes were puffy and red rimmed from crying. His throat ached and so did his chest and he wished to whatever god there was in heaven that all the sad, sympathetic eyes of the team weren't pointed straight at him. Then he saw the wavering eyes of one jubilation lee, coupled with the sympathetic eyes of Charles Xavier. Pathetic was what he was and irrationally he became angry and frustrated. His face balled into a scowl as he stared at Scott and Scott's face only softened as if to felt sorry for the poor wounded animal snarling in front of him. Logan couldn't stand that look anymore and abruptly stood causing Scott to teeter backward and fall on his butt. Logan scanned the room like a spooked dog. The faces mimicked Scott's face of rancid pity. He felt trapped and caged as if he was some sort of zoo exhibit on grand opening day. Did they want him to give a speech? Do a little dance?

"Logan…" came Jubilee's small voice but it boomed in his ears like the last tick of a bomb.

"I need some air." He rumbled then haphazardly stalked out of the room bumping into things and causing them to clatter against the hard linoleum floor. The noise only assaulted his senses and made his need to depart even more urgent.

"Wolvie wait!" Jubilee blurted and Logan froze. His shoulders bunched up and he began to shake. He couldn't deal with this right now. He didn't want to see her face. He'd lost all semblance of control. How could he look at her now without feeling guilty? How could he explain what happened? Would she think it was his fault? Would she hold it against him? Fuck that! He shouldn't have to explain! Without a word or a glance back he stormed out leaving behind a tearful teenaged girl and a shocked team.

"I gotta go after him." Scott said after climbing to his feet. He'd stayed quiet and still on the floor, not wanting to spook the man anymore then he already was.

"Scott no! You can't. He's still not in control. I can feel so much rage and despair. There's no telling what he might do." Jean blurted and Scott swayed at the force of her worry and concern flooding his brain through their shared link.

"That's exactly why he shouldn't be left alone." He countered.

"Scott…" She began again.

"No! He's just remembered that he lost his infant daughter. They killed her right in front of him because they wanted a son instead. Can you imagine being punished for something you can't control, like you can really control the gender of your child? Can you imagine what that must feel like? Can you just stop for a second and imagine what that would feel like. Then to realize that you not only watched her die, but you went one step further and forgot about her all together. Disrespecting her memory… how would you feel Jean? Would you really want to look into the eyes of the **_entire_** team knowing they know? Could you stand the looks?" Scott had erupted and he stared at Jean in the oppressive quiet. He hadn't realized he'd shouted his whole spiel in one breath. His chest heaved slightly and the once unified couple was at a stand off.

"No, no I couldn't stand it. I'd have to get away…" She whispered looking down at her hands which suddenly seemed very interesting.

"Exactly, He wants to get away but he doesn't want to be isolated. He needs someone who wont feed him pity and sympathy. I can do that and I can bring him home." Scott said with his tight leader voice. His back was ridged and his chin high. He shifted his gaze from Jean to the professor who seemed to just be an observer. The professor's face was creased with thought. He knew Scott would go no matter what he said and something inside of him knew that it would be better to give Scott the chance to bring the wayward feral home then to aggressively attempt to apprehend him. With a heavy sigh the professor looked up with pursed lips and gave Scott a nod and with that Scott was gone.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"So beast. How have things been for you?" Storm said trying to break the smothering silence that had befallen the group. Jeans wondering mind came back home and she flushed slightly knowing she must have been staring off into space. Storms eyes fell on the man she had once given her heart too who sat respectfully across the table from her. She tried to be tough, regal, unwavering but her eyes softened when she gazed into the warm yellow eyes of Hank Mccoy.

"Things have been stellar. I think we are truly making progress, but even with all the advancements we are making I still find myself missing home." He said in his usual poetic way. He had such a way with words. Profanity would sound like the sweetest music coming from his mouth, which was something storm had always admired about him. Opposite to his rough appearance the man codenamed beast was actually a very intellectual and thoughtful soul.

"And missing you…" He added and Storm slightly flinched. Unsure why his confession caused such a surge in her emotions she nervously smoothed her hair behind her ear. Her mind drifted back to the time she'd shared with him. The picnics, the conversations and the passion, now it all seemed to overshadow the bad times that had ultimately led to their less then cordial breakup.

"I missed you too Hank." She smiled at him and he smiled back a toothy grin with his blue fur slightly bristling. An awkward silence fell between the two and they realized that the rest of the team were watching them intently, like nosey school, children even though they tried to hide it behind their cards.

"So…how have you been these last few months?" Hank asked after clearing his throat.

"I've been alright. I'm teaching another class now. So I'm even more busy then I was before." She stated coolly, trying to stay in control of her emotions but she could already hear the pitter patter of rain that was no doubt the personification of her cloudy feelings.

"How's the greenhouse. If I recall correctly you had a terrible time with a Hasta bush you had aptly named arduous." He grinned at her choice of names for the difficult plant.

"Arduous is doing fine." She smiled, impressed that he remembered such a thing. It meant she was still on his mind and she couldn't help but let the smile that had already spread across her face spread even further. Her smile faltered when jean groaned and teetered forward in her chair holding her temples.

"Jean! Hank!" They heard a gruff and rushed bellow. From the roughness of the voice they knew it was Wolverine but there was an edge to his voice they had never heard before. The team immediately left their chairs and ran for the foyer. Jean sent out a mental probe in mid stride and gasped at what she found.

"Oh my god. What have you done?" Jean shouted before she even saw the chaotic scene. She turned the corner to find Logan standing drenched in rain, creating a growing puddle around his feet. In his arm was a limp and very pale Scott Summers. His chest barely rose as he took in gurgled breaths. The puddle at Logan's feet began to change rusty brown and Jean could detect the familiar stench of blood in the air.

"I…We got into a fight…I didn't mean…He needs help." Logan offered. Stuttering uncharacteristically and jean could sense a swell of contradictory emotions threatening to send him over the edge.

"Bring him to the infirmary…now" She barked leading the way in a rushed jog. The team murmured and muttered their concern watching Jean, Logan, Scott and Beast enter the elevator to the medlab. Storm eyed the blood on the floor and covered her mouth as the doors closed and the eerie sound of labored breath disappeared.

"It'll be alright cher. Scott a strong man, he'll make it out of dis one fo' sure." Remy said giving storm a hug and waiting with the rest of the team to take the next elevator down.

"God, what has Logan done?" Strained Rouge who sounded both sad and angry.

"I don't know, but from the look in his eyes I'd say what ever it is…he's already paying the price for it." Ororo said and the team fell quiet.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"Leave Logan. Your not welcomed here!" Barked Jean as he laid Scott's shivering body down on the closest medical bed. He moaned out loud and Logan grimaced. She checked Scott's pulse again and began to cut away what was left of his tattered shirt. Beast worked diligently to collecting the necessary materials to close whatever wound was causing Scott to bleed out to profusely.

"I said get out!" He screamed again not taking the time to look up. She didn't even react to the vicious wound. She was in doctor mode and instead focused on stopping the bleeding.

"He's lost to much blood, He needs a transfusion. I'll prepare it." Beast said and went about it.

"Jennie" Logan finally said taking in the scene before him. Blood and chaos. He'd done this. He'd caused this. Always blood.

"Leave…" she spat again. This time stopping and staring at him with such venomous rage that he had to look away.

"I think it best you leave. If you stay, you'd only be in the way. We will keep you updated of his condition. Mean while I think it would be prudent to speak to the professor. Tell him your side of the story…" Beast said and Logan looked at him. Tell him my side of the story? He thought. Did they think he did this on purpose? He balled up his fists that were slick with blood and turned to leave only to be halted by the scratch marks all over the door. How could they not think he did it on purpose, look what his animal had done. He shifted to flee through the automatic doors when he heard to barely audible sound of Scott trying desperately to utter his name. Logan couldn't take it, if his name were his last words…he couldn't even think that way. He shot through the automatic doors and down the hall not taking notice of the sour and confused looks he received from the team.

XOXOXOXOXOX

Logan could hear the distinct whirr of his motorized chair and sighed. He sat in his dark room letting his mind wonder over the tragedy he had just learned of and the possible tragedy he had just committed. He had showered but he could still smell blood on himself. It seemed like blood from the past and the present. He was saturated in it, it was caked all over. The blood mixed with guilt and self loathing and he found himself wanting nothing but for everything to end and all this emotional noise to be silenced. It had been awhile since he had felt this low. The need to end it all kept creeping into his psyche but was that the easy way out? Or was it the only way out? The whir got closer and Logan put a lid on those feelings, deciding to save them for later when the psychic eyes of Charles Xavier weren't so close.

"Chuck…" Logan said as the professor turned the corner and entered his open room. He sat in the doorway. Staring at him sidelong with his hands folded in his lap. He took in the slope of the hairy mans shoulders and his disheveled appearance. He sat dejectedly on the edge of his bed staring at the wall smelling like he had used a whole bar of soap and his skin looked flushed and angry as if he had rubbed it raw. Under the stern glare of his mentor Logan seemed to crack and felt compelled to explain himself.

"It was an accident chuck. He was bating me. Pushing all the right buttons until I just…I lost control. We fought in Harry's parking lot for god knows how long. All I could see was red, I was so angry." Logan couldn't even look at the professor. He didn't want to see disappointment and he didn't want the professor to see the irrational anger and rage that was building inside of him again. His anger seemed to be a bottomless pit, it had an endless supply of energy now and he felt like a ticking time bomb.

"How about now? Are you still angry Logan?"

"Yeah…angry and frustrated that everything has to end in blood! He didn't do anything but try to help me and look where it lands him. I'm not good for anyone chuck…not good for anyone. I don't think I can keep control." Logan abruptly rose to his feet and began to pace the room like a caged lion.

"When I first heard of Scott's condition and your supposed hand in it I was very upset but I think there is something else at play here. You have a pent up rage that's eating away at you and if given enough time that rage will simply boil over and you'll do something you'll regret. Scott didn't let you boil over."

"What are you saying? He fought me so I wouldn't "boil over" or go berserk? That's crazy! I could have killed him!"

"Just think about it Logan. Both Jean and Hank say Scott will be fine. Don't leave Logan. He'll be disappointed if you go." The professor said and with that he left leaving Logan standing confused in the middle of his room.

"Disappointed…"

XOXOXOXOXOX

"Hey" Scott muttered to whatever living soul was in the room hoping they could provide him with a cup of water and a box of extra strength aspirin.

"Hey, how ya feelin'?" Came a voice he hadn't expected to hear.

"Been better." Scott said opening his eyes and letting them focus on the hairy man with the mean 5' 0clock shadow and unruly hair sitting to his right. He wore his usual flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of warn blue jeans. Logan looked Scott over and instantly felt bad. The man looked frail, fragile even. He had been laying in bed for over a week now and the bandages wrapped around his chest looked angry, as if whatever was underneath was terrifying.

"Jean said your gonna make a full recovery. Your gonna be barking your tight ass orders and playing hero in no time." Logan rumbled leaning back in his chair with his usual asshole smirk but Scott saw that gesture in a whole knew light and in that light that smirk was minus the asshole.

"Well, that's a relief. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't give my tight ass orders." Scott countered and they both smirked and let out a humored breath.

"From what I heard around the mansion no one wanted you to come after me but you did anyway. You knew my rage was building up inside of me and I could have done something unthinkable. Something I'd end up regretting. You're a fool though, putting yourself in danger like that. I lost control. I could have killed ya. Hell I almost killed ya!" Logan said crossing his arms over his chest. To any normal person his gesture and body language suggested anger but Scott knew in a sense the wolverine was trying to say thank-you and showing concern.

"Originally I came to the bar to talk some sense into you but when that didn't work trying to beat the shit out of you seemed like the next best step. I was angry at first, when you punched me my thoughts clouded over with rage but it didn't last long. A couple minutes into the fight I had expelled all the built up anger but I could still see so much still churning inside of you. I don't think you even remembered what you were fighting for, you just needed to let out all that hurt before you exploded. I kept fighting you, giving you my all in hopes that with time your anger would run out…along with your stamina." Scott whispered already showing signs of fatigue. Logan snorted and handed Scott the cup of water that was sitting on the small stand next to the bed.

"I never run out of stamina…part of the mutation." He offered and it was Scott't turn to snort at the innuendo.

"Fortunately you ran out of rage first…"

"Yeah, when you hit me with that blast and I laid there hurtin' so bad. Felt like you blew a hole in my chest"

"I'm sorry I hurt you so bad." Scott said looking at Logan's chest even though he knew he'd find no evidence of injury.

"Don't be sorry. The pain brought me back to reality. Slowed me down enough to realize who I was really fightin' and that I'd hurt you real bad. The anger was gone then when I smelled the blood and saw you in the distance hunched over like that. When I saw you like that I don't know what I thought…I just knew I felt real bad about what I did and had to help ya and get you back here where they could patch you up." Logan said outright and Scott wasn't sure how to respond. He'd never, in all his years knowing him, heard Logan express himself in such a way. He knew Logan wasn't a Neanderthal and was very capable of expressing himself but he never felt comfortable enough to do it but at this moment in time Logan felt compelled to share with him and Scott lapped it up.

"You look like shit. Get some rest." Logan said abruptly changing the mood and Scott laughed out loud at how Logan tended to change subjects with little finesse when things became awkward.

"Thanks Logan. I think I'll do just that." Scott said with a lopsided smirk.

"What are you doing here?" Jean blurted from the doorway. The hostility was so thick Logan could smell it like burning rubber.

"I just wanted to check on one-eye here. I'm on my way out." Logan said unwilling to put up a fight. He'd wanted to check on Scott and that's exactly what he'd done, besides he was already late for his mandatory session with Xavier. He'd agreed to see the bald headed man every day for an hour to help him piece together the horrible memories and get a grasp on his rage. So far they were making little progress….

"Damn right you are. The professor might want you to stay here, but that doesn't mean I have to like it." She shouted after him as he sauntered toward the doors.

"I hear ya loud and clear Jeannie" He said stepping threateningly close to her, taking in her scent and then side stepping and leaving the med lab, Leaving her slightly shaken.

"Jean what the hell is your problem?" Scott muttered once he was sure Logan was out of earshot. His eyes watched her as she checked the monitors and went to work changing his bandages.

"What's my problem? He almost killed you. Your heart stopped twice from the loss of blood and shock. He's dangerous Scott and I don't want him anywhere near you."

"We are all dangerous Jean! Some more then others that's true but you should know better then the rest of us the horrors he's gone through. He has the right to lose control sometimes, sometimes he needs to just let go and this was an accident!"

"Letting go doesn't mean trying to beat the hell out of a team mate. Look at these wounds! Just look at them!" She blurted and for the first time he saw the angry scaring. The skin was jagged and bruised where three perpendicular slashes tore through his otherwise unblemished skin. The skin would knit together but the ugly scars would never go away. He frowned to himself. The wolverine had left his mark. He'd have to livewithit forever.

"It was an accident Jean…Things got out of hand…"

"You could have died Scott. You could have lost your life trying to help him. Since when did he mean that much to you?" Jean said softly. The deeper meaning to her question wasn't lost to Scott. Silence filled medical. Since when had his feelings for Logan changed, could he answer that question even if he wanted to? What he saw in her eyes at that moment was troubling. It was Anger swirling with betrayal and a large helping of sadness. She knew, She knew everything. She knew more then he did about his own feelings and even more about his lack of romantic feelings toward her. In the hush of the med lab their relationship was coming to an abrupt end. A divider was thrown up and Scott could no longer feel her presence in his mind. Her mouth twisted into a pained smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her eyes shown more hurt then anything else and Scott had to look away. He felt violated for having his thought and feelings put on display for her judgment, but he knew this was the best way. The way he felt he could never put into words. It was too new, too fresh and it felt both wrong and right. She had to find out this way or she would have never found out at all.

"Well, get some rest Scott. I have some paper work to do." And with that she left as if Scott had some sort of infectious plague.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"Your suppose to be in your room sipping on broth through a silly straw." Came a gravelly voice to his right. He saw the thick Canadian dressed in a matching gray sweat suit but the top had been thrown unceremoniously to the floor. He laid back on the bench press covered in a sheen of sweat, his pectorals and arm muscles bunching with each lift of the overloaded barbell.

"Logan, your so colorful with words" Scott droned and Logan snorted in a way that's just short of an actual chuckle. Hefinally set down his barbells and sat up. Using a near by towel to wipe away the sweat he glared at Scott with his dark eyes. Scott just watched feeling things stirring inside of him. His eyes ran over Logan's cut, strong and demanding body and in that moment he wanted nothing more then to touch that dense frame and see if it felt like how he imagined it would.

"Surprised…"

"What?" Scott said in confusion.

"I'm surprised to see you down here when Beast gave you strict instructions to stay in bed. Not like you to break the rules." Logan said and Scott felt oddly relieved to get the old banter back. He had been stuck in that med lab for 2 and a half grueling weeks. It was nice to get some semblance of normalcy back and it was nice to see Logan again since he hadn't visited him again since the first week in med lab. Over the last week and a half Scott's mind had become obsessed with thoughts of Logan. He had filled his dreams, a dangerous man who could tear him apart but would always choose not to. He would choose to take him instead. Sometimes rough, sometimes gentle, sometimes a mixture of both. Scott had come to the realization that his feeling for Logan ran deeper then just a crush, ran deeper then what he had with Jean. He had never dreamed of Jean coming to him in the middle of the night and doing the things he dreamt Logan would do. Was he sick? twisted for dreaming of him? Scott quietly berated himself clinching his fists in an attempt to push away the thoughts.

"To be honest I can't just lay around doing nothing all day like you. I have responsibilities." Scott said in his usual stoic tone with his arms folded over his chest and his head cocked to one side. He tried to hide the sexual yearning he felt for the shirtless man in front of him but Logan could smell the lust, he just chose to ignore it.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, I've got responsibilities too and my top priority right now is ta prevent you from using these exercise machines." Logan said while standing. He stretched a little as if prepared to do whatever it took to keep Scott from touching a machine.

"What?"

"Yeah, blue boy knew you'd do this so he told me under no circumstances are you to work out. He thought since I spend the most time in here, if you did try to sneak down I'd catch ya, and what do ya know…here we are." Logan said letting a feral grin spread across his face. The ever growing musk of sexual desire that was pour off the kid was like a drug to Logan. The smell caused his heart to speed up and his beast to bud. The grin that spread over his face was predatory in nature.

"Your not serious…" Scott gapped.

"Try me…" Logan said and Scott wasn't sure if he was playing or not. He squinted at Logan and slowly took a few steps toward the bench press and Logan countered blocking his path.

"Your really serious about this…" Scott said exasperated.

"Hey, you helped me. Now it's my turn to help you." He shrugged. Scott was still for a moment then suddenly broke for the bench press at full throttle. Logan was caught off guard but quickly grabbed Scott around the waist and halted him in his tracks, letting out a genuine chuckle as Scott flailed. The younger man was already out of breath, which only reinforced Beast's no exercise policy and Logan was sure that the angry scars that laid underneath his loose fitting shirt must be stinging from the exertion. Scott struggled some more but quickly gave up and leaned back onto his capture with fatigue. They stood there for a second, quiet, enjoying each other's presence, enjoying each other's warmth. Logan's arms tightened around Scott's waist and he pulled him tight up against him. Scott could feel Logan a hair's breath away from his neck taking in the intoxicating scent. Logan found himself wanting to be closer to him, touching like this wasn't enough. A low primal growl rumbled in his throat and Scott shuttered at the vibrations it sent through his body. The feral mutant began to lightly nip at his neck, running his sharp canines over the tender flesh, enjoying the reactions he got from Scott who sucked in air and let out a satisfactory moan. Scott craned his neck giving Logan more to nip on and Logan too the opportunity to use his tongue to trail up to Scott's earlobe. He slowly snacked his hands under the other mans shirt, running his hands over his washboard stomach and narrow hips. He liked the way Scott felt, he liked the way touching Scott made him feel. He wanted more.

/All X-men Report to the war room we have an emergency./ The professors disembodied voice broke in. The sexual trance they were in was abruptly broken and they jumped away from each other in surprise and utter confusion. They stared at each other, both breathing heavy and obviously sexually aroused. Logan looked around in bewilderment nervously running his hands through his wild hair, there weren't any words to solidify what had just happened. It had felt right but now it felt so very wrong. Logan awkwardly picked up his shirt and tugged it over his head. Scott tried to calm his excited body and cool his flushed cheeks. He smoothed his hair and his clothes and once again they stared at each other unable to find words that were appropriate. What did this mean?

/All X-men Report to the war room immediately./ The professor let out another psychic alert and Scott snapped too. Shaking away the dizzying sexual tension he gathered himself and his rampant emotions taking one last look at the man whose arms he was just in. A dream come true but why did he feel so confused and why did Logan look so scared? Was he disgusted?

"It's Anthony Mckay…" He said in a hurry, turning abruptly on his heal and heading for the door with Logan in tow. His tone and manner suggested that pretending nothing had happened would be the best course of action and Logan agreed, for now.

"Anthony Mckay? Who's that?"

"Your about to find out…"

To Be Continued…Next chapter coming soon!


	7. Chapter 7: Tension

Title: Memories

Author: Shadowkat83 A.K.A fanficexpress

Fandom: X-men

Rating: R

Chapter: 7?

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, Slash and MPREG

Summary: A forgotten tragedy from Logan's past suddenly resurfaces leaving Logan a shell of his former self. Can anyone get through to him?

Author's Note: This story will deal with dark issues and imagery but its Logan so what do you expect. Also sorry for the delay guys…RL has been kicking my butt lately. Since you had to wait so long for this chappie I plan to post the next chapter (which is already written I just have to do some editing) later on tonight or tomorrow morning! Enjoy!

Tension

They were paranoid. Entering the war room they tried their best to look natural but it felt like their dizzying scene that had occurred just moments earlier was displayed all over their faces and as much as Scott tried to calm down his cheeks were still flushed. It also wasn't lost to them that they were entering a room that housed two of the most powerful psychics. Not thinking in so many words that Jean and the Professor would secretly dig through their minds without their consent but paranoia was a strange, strange thing. The eyes of the team watched them enter. Scott took special notice of the sour and resentful frown and squint he received from Jean. They quickly took their seats, Scott on one side of the table and Logan on the other. The professor cleared his throat and his pupils snapped to attention.

"What's going on professor? Is it Mckay?" Scott queried, quickly smoothing a brown lock out of his face and his once flushed cheeks hand finally cooled. He now looked flawlessly put together. He'd turned into the wooden soldier his team was use to and Logan couldn't help but let his mind wander back to the gym just moments earlier where he didn't look so put together; he didn't look so stuffy, so prepared. He liked seeing Scott that way.

"I'm afraid so. This time on a much larger scale then before." The professor nodded. He rested his elbows on the metallic table, letting his fingers press against his lips in the shape of a steeple. He took in a deep breath before continuing on and the team could sense his hesitation.

"His abilities seem to be growing exponentially. He can no longer handle his power. He's gone on a rampage of destruction. His anger is fueled by the fear and animosity his own people have toward him."

"What are his powers?" Logan asked which got him an awkward glance from Scott. Not that Logan had said anything wrong, but hearing his voice triggered memories he was trying to subdue. They shared an awkward glance between each other before clearing their throats and turning their gaze back to the professor. Xavier pressed a few buttons on the console in front of him, which made the holo-projector located in the middle of the table, crackle and come alive. Soon through the static the form of a boy appeared.

"He's so young!" Rouge exclaimed. He was short with hair so dark it looked blacker then night. His eyes held the same intense black as if his anger and hatred had fed on his pupils. His skin was pale and his cheeks were sunken. His clothes were in tatters and were covered in filth.

"He's a 15 year old young man from a small town in Germany. He has the ability to manipulate matter." The professor broke in and gauged his student's reactions some seemed to get the implications of having such a power while other's seemed mildly confused.

"So what's the big deal? The kid can manipulate matter…" Logan interrupted, leaning back casually in his chair. He pulled out a cigar but thought better of lighting it with the professor sitting in the room. He just clamped it between his canines and crossed his arms over his burly chest. Logan could feel an odd tension rolling off of the professor and he didn't like it. He could feel that they were just beating around the bush, they hadn't even gotten to the meat of the conversation.

"With his ability he can theoretically manipulate anything he comes in contact with like putty. Everything on this planet could be his lump of clay. Right now all he's doing is bending earth but there is no doubt in my mind that he will soon inherent the abilities to manipulate both inanimate and animate objects. That would spell disaster if he isn't taught to use his abilities properly." The professor explained and the team finally understood the importance of retrieving this boy. What kind of horrors could he commit spurred on by so much rage with so much power at his command? The team could only imagine and shudder at the thought. All eyes focused on the holo-image that slowly spun on top the war room table. This little deprived boy could really spell so much disaster?

"Animate objects…so you mean living t'ings, like people? He be able to tear Remy apart and put Remy back together, non?" Remy questioned.

"Tear you apart, yes. Put you back together if he so chooses but from the level of rage I pick up from the boy…I'm quite certain putting you back together will be the least of his concerns." Remy didn't much like the professor's answer. He frowned to himself. This mission seemed like a death trap.

"So what can we possibly do against an enemy like this? Scott says he pulled the ground apart just by raising his hands. If he's stronger now then he was then, then there's nothing to stop him from lifting his hands and tearing us limb from limb." Rouge said which got a nods of agreement from both Remy and Beast. She vocalized what they were all thinking.

"Cher is right, He could tear us apart befo' we even get close." Remy injected.

"I must agree with Gambit, if he's as strong as you say I'm afraid we'd stand no chance against him." Storm's regal voice spoke out. All eyes fell on the professor for an answer. He must have some ace up his sleeve or some information that will give them the upper hand. How did he really expect them to reason or capture someone with such awesome ability?

"He's stronger but I don't think he's that strong yet. We must reason with him before his powers fully develop…" The professor started but Logan had, had enough.

"What if the kid don't wanna be reasoned with…" Logan finally said cutting the professor off. He didn't like beating around the bush. He knew where this was going. A kid with that much power and ability would be hard to sway. He was having a temper tantrum and he wouldn't stop until the whole world heard him. He could feel the underlying hum from the professor. There was a moral snag that was causing him to hesitate in answering his question. Fifteen is young to die, real young.

"If he can't be reasoned with…then he has to be taken down…" The professor said letting his blue eyes rest on his team. His eyes were both soft and determined. He looked as if he'd already wept for the child but was determined to keep hope alive in the slim chance that they could persuade this Anthony Mckay that he was heading down the wrong path.

"We understand" Scott said filling the chilling silence. He stood with his jaw tight and his body language screamed leadership. He took in a deep breath seeming to draw in confidence and with that subtle display of assurance the rest of the team stood as well and nodded their understanding of the mission in all it's detail. Everyone stood except Jean Grey who had sat poised and quiet throughout the entire meeting.

"Professor, As medical advisor I don't think Scott is ready to lead the team on this mission. His wounds are not 100." Jean said.

"What!" Scott said whirling around and attempting to bite back his anger. He glared at her but she didn't return his gaze.

"I'd also like to share my concerns with having Logan on this mission. He's not mentally stable. He still holds on to an unpredictable rage that will blind his judgment and could cost us our lives out in the field. He can't be trusted to make sound decisions.

"Look here Jean…" Logan erupted, slamming his hands palm down on the table and leaning forward menacing. He had thought the exchange between Scott and Jean was rather amusing until his name was incorporated. The inner rage began to boil again.

"Logan please! Jean your concerns have been noted. Scott, I agree with Jean. You're not yet ready to lead the team on this mission. Your injuries would be a liability. Storm, you have command. All X-men are cleared for this mission." The professor said and his tone made it clear that there was no room for debate. He gave the team one last look before making his way out the door and leaving all eyes on Scott and Storm. Never before had anyone taken his command. Scott stood silently at first, then his fists balled up and he stormed out after the professor followed by Jean.

"What the hell is going on here?" Scott bellowed down the hallway, trotting after the professor with his brow creased in anger.

"Scott this isn't a punishment, don't see it as such. The best interest of the team is at stake here. Your going to have to put your pride aside and realize that in this instance someone is more qualified to command. Not become of your incompetence or any fault of your own, but because of medical circumstance." The professor said not taking the time to stop and look at his angry pupil. The professor continued forward and Scott fell behind leaving Jean still biting at the Professors ankles.

"Professor…" She said but he abruptly cut her off.

"Jean, I understand your concerns about Logan but segregating him from the team isn't going to help his healing process."

"Isn't having him on this mission taking a gamble with our lives…" She stopped, in a since holding her ground. Her hands were poised on her hips and her lips were tangled in a snarl. The professor stopped but didn't bother to turn around. His shoulders were squared and he took in a deep breath.

"Going on this mission without him is gambling with your lives…" He said and with that he continued on, heading down the hall and around the corner. The both stood frozen and quiet in the hallway watching him turn the corner out of sight and as the whirr of the hover chair disappeared the sound of storm talking to the team echoed through the hall. It was her giving the departure orders instead of Scott and the sound caused a mixture of anger and sadness to churn in his guts. She ended her pep talk like he always ended his and he frowned. It felt too much like someone was taking his place. It felt like he was losing the control he coveted so much. Everything was so confusing! First his relationship with jean, Then the awkwardness between him and Logan and now in front of the team his command had been stripped from him. When exactly had he lost control? His eyes fell on Jean's cold one's and then fell into a hateful squint. This wasn't over, not by a long shot.

"You heard the women, Jean. Suit up." Scott said and then stormed down the hallway.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Most of the team was dressed and ready to go but Scott found it hard to keep his mind grounded. The simple task of putting on his uniform seemed to be beyond him and was taking forever. As Scott struggled to keep his head on straight he sensed that Someone was still in the Locker room with him. Standing fully dressed just leaning against the doorjamb was Logan. The tension in the room immediately began to rise between them even though they hadn't spoken a word. Logan only moved to light his customary "before mission" cigar, dipping his head to his lighter and taking a long drag. The cigar seethed red-hot and the smoke he released seemed to encase the whole room as Logan's dark eyes continued to watch Scott slip into his uniform.

"Shouldn't you be heading up to the blackbird?" Scott asked with irritation. He didn't like him looking at him like that. He didn't like how his eyes studied him so intently. He hadn't looked away once; he just leaned against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest and large clouds of murky smoke billowing from his mouth and nostrils reminding him of a looming steamboat giving off steam.

"Yeah I should but I'm not. I'm thinking about knocking you out and leaving you here on the floor while the rest of use take care of this mission. That way you won't be pouting and feeling sorry for yourself out in the field. Your gonna get someone killed." Logan said, taking a step forward. He used his tongue to roll his cigar from one corner of his mouth to the other while adjusting his worn jet-black leather gloves that matched his form fitted black leather outfit. He abruptly popped his claws and Scott could see the muscles in his arms ripple as the blades erupted from his fists. They glinted in the dim overhead lights and then slowly retracted and for the first time Scott heard the faint sound of metal scraping against metal as the six identical claws slid into his forearm. It amazed Scott that Logan didn't even flinch, it was as if he welcomed the pain the claws brought him and welcomed the fear and awe it seemed to inspire in all who saw them. Watching those deadly blades always mystified him but as soon as the blades were fully retracted he shook off their mesmerizing effect and looked away, feeling silly for being so captured by Logan and his claws.

"Fuck you, Logan. You're the last person I wanna hear that from." Scott spat.

"Naw, I think I'm the only person you can hear this from." Logan said and with those words he turned on his heel and sauntered out. Scott watched his retreating form, his eyes focused on him and he clenched his jaw in frustration but his words echoed in his mind. Was he really "pouting"? Was he really that preoccupied with feeling sorry for himself that even Logan, an emotionally disturbed man, could sense and feel it? He could feel it so much so that he felt compelled to confront him about it. What better man to know what anger and frustration could feel like than Logan?

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"I've never been to Germany before. I've always wanted to visit but under better circumstances." Rouge said straightening out her uniform and smoothing her wild hair back. She looked out the window watching the scenery zip by as the blackbird soared through the air.

"Well, Remy never wanna go to Germany and Remy still don' wanna go now." He said while attempting to tame his own hair by tying it back. He sat next to Rouge like he always did while Logan and Beast sat quietly in the back. Scott sat in the co-pilots chair while Storm took the pilots chair. Jean did her usual in the back of the plane making sure that supplies and the back room were prepared just in case a team member received injuries. Logan couldn't help but think that she was foreshadowing things to come. As if maybe she knew that they wouldn't all get out of this one unscathed. He noticed his hands shaking; he balled them into fists and looked out the window at the greens and blues of the world below. Was he ready for battle? He wasn't sure. Could he control his inner fury? He couldn't say. He'd been talking to the professor a couple times a week trying to come to grips with it all but everything was moving so slowly. He felt fragile, like the slightest thing could push him over the edge and now he's on a mission where they might have to take the life of a child…It just rang to close to home.

"Logan are you ok?" Beast queried raising an insightful eyebrow. Logan turned to him with a scowl but it faded. He could never be angry at beast. He was just to gentle of a man to be anything other then respectful towards.

"Yeah, I'm just fine…"He said and then diverted his attention back to the window.

"Under these dire circumstances our trip to Germany will be far from pleasant. I truly hope we can find a way to reason with the child." Beast interjected speaking to everyone and not just Logan. Suddenly bright flickers of red and orange caught their eyes from the blackbird's windows. The Team simultaneously gasped at what they saw. Fire and destruction spread across the entire landscape. The ground was torn apart and uneven while the few sparse buildings the people had called their town had crumbled to the ground leaving behind huge mounds of debris.

"Attention X-men. The blackbird is about to touch down. The area is hot. Stay alert spread out in teams of two. We aren't sure of the magnitude of his abilities so do not attempt to engage him on your own. Help these town's people, but if you find the boy immediately call for backup" Storm's voice bellowed from the cockpit. The team looked at each other as if it could possibly be the last time they'd ever see each other in this capacity.

"Ready?" Rouge asked

"Ready as I'll eva be." Remy said back with a charming smile and he pressed the hatch release. Everyone took a deep cleansing breath and stepped out into the chaos. .

"I can't believe one boy did all this." Jean commented, being the last to walk down the ramp. The rest of the team had already broken into their usual groups. Rouge with Remy, Storm with Hank, Logan of course stormed off on his own, which left Scott with Jean. This was their usual team up but the tension between them was so thick he could cut it with a knife. His mind was divided between his topsy-turvy life and the mission at hand and he found himself slightly relieved that he wasn't in command.

"Believe it and stay alert" Scott, said matter-a-factly and marched off ahead. Jean frowned deep and then followed.

"Scott…"

"This isn't the time nor the place but you best believe we'll talk later." He said through gritted teeth and then pointed ahead at a large pile of debris.

XOXOXOXOXOX

"Please help me. Get me away from this place. That boy is evil. Pure evil!"

"Yeah, I've heard the speech before. The kid ain't evil, just misguided." Logan drawled. He grunted as he pulled the rubble off of an elderly man. He hobbled to his feet with Logan's help and stared up at him. One eye was a piercing blue while the other was milky white and Logan assumed he had no vision in that eye. His hair was sliver and receding and his mouth was twisted and wrinkled with age. He held on to Logan as if he at one point had a cane but Logan had no clue where it was and we wasn't about to look for it.

"Look at the destruction! He must atone for his crimes!" The man blathered on. The stink of his breath assaulted Logan's nostrils. He grimaced and frowned. His senses were going haywire. The smell of burning materials and carnage crowded his nose and wouldn't budge.

"And what about your crimes old man! What of the crimes you've committed against me! You should atone for _your_ crimes!" A disembodied voice rang out. Logan instantly snapped to attention and from behind a smoldering stack of rubble a boy emerged. He was thin, sickly thin and under normal circumstances Logan would have laughed in his face but not today because even though his body seemed so fragile Logan could sense the power coursing through his veins. He was high on it, High on the ability to finally exact on his enemies the terror they had forced him to live through. The boy stared with his chest heaving for mere moments before raising one hand. The ground shook violently and then opened up at his command leaving Logan only a fraction of a second to gather the old man in his arms and lounge out of the way. He landed hard on his side behind a slab of fallen concrete. He quickly checked the man for injuries. He was knocked out cold but otherwise he seemed fine.

"Slow down kid! I know your angry but tearin' up the place isn't the answer!" Logan shouted but the boy paid his words no mind. Logan's concrete cover was quickly being chipped away by every flick of the enraged child's wrist.

"Fuck this, I ain't no negotiator." Logan muttered and then pressed his built in communicator located in the collar of his uniform.

"Storm, I've got the kid over here, he's having a hissy fit."

"We are on our way" Storm confirmed and the channel went dead.

"You're the man from before. Here to take me away to your demon school again! I'm not going anywhere! This is where I was born and this is where I'm gonna stay! These people are going to have to accept me or they are going to suffer!" The boy shouted and Logan peered from behind his cover to see Scott and Jean standing to his far left. Anthony pointed accusingly at Scott as he screamed with angry tears welling up in his eyes.

"Look at what your doing! Yeah, they've treated you bad, they've called you names, hit you and spit on you but that's just ignorance on their part. They don't know any better but you do! I know it hurt but destroying everything in your path isn't teaching them that you aren't a demon! What your doing is feeding into the stereotype that they've placed upon you! What your doing is becoming the demon they think you are!" Scott shouted back extending his hands to show all the damage that had been done.

"Shut-up! You don't know anything! It's easy to say such things when you're not living my life! I can see into their minds…they will never accept me no matter what I do! All I can do is make them fear and respect me!" Anthony screamed and the ground quaked. They all stumbled for footing and reeled at the boy's power.

"See into their minds? What do you mean by that Anthony?" Jean questioned with concern. If he housed some sort of telepathic ability in conjunction with the powers he already possessed then their wasn't a snowballs chance in hell they could defeat him.

"I can…I can see their feelings and thoughts." The boy stammered a little, not sure how to describe his newly awakened power. Logan quietly stood sensing his chance to maneuver himself in a better position while the boy was occupied with Jean and Scott. Out of the corner of his eye the boy noticed movement. His eyes widened and he whirled to his right. His black demon eyes locked on to Logan's steely glare. Anthony's pupils expanded and Logan froze in his tracks, Mesmerized and unable to look away.

To Be Continued…

Ooooo cliffhanger :O)

Questions will be answered in the next chapter which is : Unravel


	8. Chapter 8: unravel

Title: Memories

Author: fanficexpress aka shadowkat83

Fandom: X-men

Rating: R

Chapter: 8?

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, Slash and MPREG

Summary: A forgotten tragedy from Logan's past suddenly resurfaces leaving Logan a shell of his former self. Can anyone get through to him?

Chapter 8: unravel

He stood in the middle of a field in full bloom. He stood bare foot at the top of a small hill and he wiggled his toes in the sun-warmed grass. He wasn't in uniform anymore, the leather was long gone and what replaced it were worn jeans with holes in the knees and a plain white t-shirt. . His hair was much longer then he ever remembered it being. It laid bone straight down to his shoulders and the tips of his ears peeked out slightly through the strands. Through the initial confusion he felt a sense of calm. This place was so beautiful and the air was crisp and pure.

"Hey! Hey slow down will ya!" someone shouted from behind. He recognized the voice in the sense that he'd heard it before but he couldn't put a finger on who's voice it was. He turned around to see a man running up the small incline he was on. He had a smile spread across his face that was infectious. He chuckled with delight as he made his way up the incline. Completely out of breath he stopped in front of Logan and hunched over with his hands on his knees.

"Jesus James…What's the idea running off like that and leaving me behind." He wheezed out.

"James…" Logan mouthed to himself. Why did he call him that? He didn't know. The man finally stood to his full height after finding his second wind. He was Logan's height but didn't posses his bulkiness. He was slender and lean with raven hair that had picked up the gentle rhythm the breeze had constructed. His eyes were what struck Logan the most. They were a misty gray, like those of a cat, which gave him a sudden wildness. He seemed to be the perfect contradiction, with wild mischievous eyes on the face of a cherub.

"Are you ok? You're acting strange." He inquired.

"I…I don't remember you…" Logan finally said and was surprised at how his voice sounded in his ears. He was so use to the sandpapery rumble that he was startled at the pitch and tone his voice had now. It was light, clear, smooth.

"Aw, well…it's been a long time since I've seen you. You've probably had a lot of partners since me. I guess it's not a big deal that you forgot me." He looked hurt but he tried to hide it with a sad smile. He took a step closer and placed his hands on Logan's shoulders. His eyes softened and a quick flash of yellow streaked through them.

"Who are you?" Logan whispered. Those eyes, he'd seen them before. He'd studied them before.

"I'm Marcus, Your first love…" He said with a smile so wide it could split his face in two.

"What!…" Logan gasped out but before he could get clarification the beautiful landscape disappeared and so did Marcus. He closed his eyes and when he opened them he was in an old cabin, which also struck him as familiar. In fact, it was more then familiar…he had a sense of home. It smelled like Him, the man who called himself Marcus, his first love. As much as Logan wanted to deny that he could ever love a man he could truly understand falling in love with those eyes.

"We loved it here…" Logan snapped his head to the right startled. Marcus stood by the door with his hands jammed in his pockets and the same infectious smile as before.

"We use to come here all the time. You and me. You said we were the closest to nature here and I agreed. This was the only place where I felt free." He said while looking down at his feet. He was reminiscing about times long ago. Talking about them as if something horrible had upset the happiness he had described. Logan looked around the bare yet homey cabin. There weren't any pictures on the walls or anything definable that screamed to the fact that people use to live here. Just two old jackets hanging on hooks by the door and blankets thrown hap-hazard across the old flannel couch that faced the fireplace. Logan stared at the fireplace and remembered a time when it was roaring with red and gold flames and he sat next to Marcus on the old flannel couch, tired yet satisfied after a weary day of hunting and cutting wood. They had just made it inside before the storm hit. Now the rain tapped at the windows and the thunder and lightening boomed and clacked.

"Why are you so quiet?" Marcus asked sitting on the opposite side of the couch. He knew his lover was tired and needed some space to unwind or he'd become agitated.

"Hmm, oh I'm just thinking about stuff." Logan said while taking a deep breath and letting the fire hypnotize him. Every now and then he'd take a swig of his beer and look at the two jackets that hung by the door.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it." Logan waved it off but there was a solemn expression on his face.

"No I want to know. Tell me."

"No really it's nothing."

"Come on…you look sad." Marcus pleaded while scooting down the couch toward Logan. He sat right up against him and Logan wrapped one arm around him squeezing him tight.

"I was just thinking how there use to only be my jacket hanging over there by the door. I didn't realize how lonely those days were until now. That's all." He whispered.

More small memories of their time together in the tiny wooden cabin came to the forefront of his mind and he smiled to himself. He'd never unlocked a memory from his past that gave him nice warm feelings like these did. This was the only time when remembering didn't cause him pain.

"What are you waiting for?" Marcus said pulling Logan out of his memories with a chuckle. He nodded toward the quiet fireplace against the wall.

"It's supposed to get real cold…real cold. Come with me, I'll help you get the fire started, after that your on your own." He said reached out for the doorknob.

"Wait, I don't understand what's going on!" Logan yelled out.

"No…you've waited long enough…" He said. He opened the door and a blinding white light burst through the door and engulfed the room. Logan covered his eyes against the lights assault and just as quickly as the light had appeared it was gone and Logan was alone in a small metallic room. There were no windows or doors, just solid metal walls that were old and rusty. The air was thick and damp and it was so cold he was surprised he couldn't see his breath. He turned in a circle taking in the meager space. He came full circle but on the wall in front of him was a large mirror that he was sure wasn't there before. He was taken aback by his reflection. He stood barefoot and filthy. His face, Hands and feet covered in layers of grim. He wore layers of clothes that were tattered and covered in grunge. He subconsciously ran his hand over his face, down his neck and chest in disbelief but when his wondering hand met his abdomen he almost broke into tears. His belly was rounded out and firm to the touch and at that moment he could feel flutters of movement inside. He brought his hands to his face, he couldn't fight back the tears anymore. He knew this place, He knew what was happening, he could remember it now. This was the test facility where they had experimented on him, where they had given him his adamantium skeleton and where they had held him when they found out his secret. The memories all came flooding back to him and he teetered foreword. He braced himself against the mirror, struggling to hold back tears that had been building and threatening to burst free for years.

"Do you remember now? Do you remember me? Us? What they wanted? What they did?" Marcus's voice echoed in the small space and he appeared in front of Logan like an apparition.

"Yes, I remember." Logan whispered but he couldn't take his eyes off of the mirror. After the episode at the hospital when he remembered the loss of his daughter he wanted nothing but to get her back but now that he had her, could feel her kicking inside of him, he wanted nothing more but for this nightmare to be over.

"We started out as partners at first and we hit it off immediately. I think it was because we both carry this feral beast inside of us so it was easy to relate with one another. We did the dirty work that no one else wanted to do 'Dogs of the military' is what they called us but we were the best at what we did and It wasn't long until the military realized they could capitalize on our abilities as a team. They started entrusting us with the high-class jobs and the high-class search and destroy missions we'd always wanted." He paused for a moment staring off into the distance before he continued.

"I was always attracted to you. From the very beginning when I saw you I was amazed by how comfortable you seemed to be with your animal side. I struggled with mine all my life but you were so confident in yourself and your abilities that I was drawn to you. I think you knew I wanted you…you just never said anything. The day came when I couldn't stand it anymore and after a brutal mission we were both in the locker room peeling off our uniforms. I remember I took a deep breath, leaned over and kissed you. I remember that day so vividly because you didn't look the least bit surprised. You didn't kiss me back but you didn't pull away either. You just stared at me the way you always do with those sharp eyes. My heart was beating in my chest, under those piercing eyes you looked like you were gonna eat me alive. Then in a flash I found myself pressed hard against the lockers. You had my shirt collar balled up in your fists and a scowl on your face. You were seething with an emotion I still to this day can't put my finger on. It was something between passion, frustration and confusion. With one last reaffirming shove you let me go and stared at me again and I defiantly stared back. We stood like that for what felt like forever just staring wildly at each other and before I even knew what was happening you had pulled me into a crushing kiss and I kissed you back hard." The ghostly Apparition chuckled at the memory. He slowly looked up and the ceiling turned to static and through the static images of their life together played like an old videotape.

"It seemed that as long as we did our missions they didn't care what we did or how we lived out lives. We decided to build a cabin in our favorite part of Canada, up high in the mountains. We'd do missions and on our downtime we'd run away to the mountains. It was the best time of my life but soon the military wanted more from us, more from you to be specific. They had this new project, they called Weapon X and they were looking for a volunteer. They asked you nicely if you'd like to participate but when you declined they asked harder. You kept saying no until they threatened my life, then you reluctantly accepted the offer." Marcus frowned as if he was reliving the pain all over again. It hurt him to talk about it but it had to be said.

"It really was crazy. I didn't realize what they had in mind and neither did you. You left for the first day of the project and I didn't see you again for seven months. Every time I asked about you they said you were away on a top-secret mission."

"Those seven months I was away…That's when they experimented on me and gave me these." Logan said lifting his hands and releasing his claws but Marcus refused to look at them as if they repulsed him. The images on the ceiling turned from the pleasant scenes to the dramatic change Logan had gone through. He could see how the feral part of his mind would overtake him. His conditioning in that hellhole of a facility made him a monster that didn't feel guilt or remorse for the atrocities he committed. He was a perfect killing machine. He closed his eyes and looked away from the horrific scenes of him slicing and gutting people with that twisted smile on his face. He had enjoyed the killing at one point but only because he was tried of feeling guilty for what he could not control. Like when an insane person finally embraces their insanity because they are tired of fighting it and feeling broken. It feels like the only thing to do.

"When you finally came back you were a different man and you had those monstrous claws. You didn't laugh or joke or smile anymore, you were this concrete slab posing as the man I had fallen in love with. Everyone was deathly afraid of you with good reason and when we went on missions it was like something in your mind would switch on and you'd just go completely berserk, slashing everyone to ribbons with those evil claws without remorse. The scariest part was that you enjoyed it. You enjoyed the carnage. I'd ask you about what they did to you that made you this way but you'd get so angry and full of rage that I'd just drop it. Soon you started having these breakdowns. They were these moments when your cold exterior would crack and you'd fall to pieces, ashamed of yourself and ashamed of what they had done to you. I was always there for you during those times, I took care of you. Those were the only times when you'd let me take control of things. Take control in everyday life…and in bed."

"Then one day you went away on a mission…and you never came back." Marcus whispered.

"Marcus…I wanted to come back but I couldn't…" Logan started but Marcus's eyes were resting on his protruding belly and Logan subconsciously tried to hide it. He remembered now. He never told him…Marcus never knew.

"You don't have to say anything or explain anything Logan, I mean…why should you? I'm not real…"Marcus said and then disappeared from sight.

"Marcus!" Logan yelled out for him tried to grab him but he was already gone.

"Marcus isn't here." A cold voice hissed. Where the mirror once stood a door had appeared. It was a solid metal door with a small hatch at the bottom. Logan recognized that voice right away and a shiver ran up his spine. He began to hyperventilate and frantically looked around the room for a way out or something to protect himself with but he found nothing.

"God no…not again." He whispered and backed up against the far wall. He wrapped his arms around his abdomen, feeling the fluttered he felt before turn into forceful kicks. Searing pain suddenly gripped him and he doubled over. At that moment a swarm of doctors rushed the room and Logan screamed out.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"LOGAN!" Scott yelled but he didn't move or respond. He just stared wide-eyed into Anthony's black voids.

"What is going on?" Storm demanded as she descended from the blue. Her eyes were clouded over with white and storm clouds churned and darkened in the sky.

"He can't be reasoned with. He has more power then we thought. He has Logan in some sort of mental hold." Jean quickly summarized.

"Jean, can you break whatever this hold is he has over Logan?" Storm said quickly.

"I can try…" Jean belted out. She closed her eyes in concentration bringing her hands up to her temples. Simultaneously the boy moaned and grabbing his head, teetering at Jean's sudden mental attack. Never tearing his eyes away from Logan he lifted his hands and the ground curled up and like a crescent wave heading in Jean's direction. Rouge soared through the heavens overhead carrying Gambit in tow. She set him down quickly beside storm and took back to the air.

"I got it! You try to get to Wolverine" She yelled to gambit over the sound of churning earth. She picked up speed and revved back one powerful fist and with one mighty punch pulverized the earthy wave. It exploded and shattered into pieces upon impact sending Rouge flying off course and into a dilapidated building head first.

"Beast, The boy!" Storm shouted and beast bounded off to subdue the boy while his powers were spread thin.

Jean concentrated on her task. So much so that she was completely unaware of the danger she was in. Her mind had left her body and she found herself in a conjoined space where both Anthony and Logan's mind were intertwined. There was a huge door that sat in front of her. It had to be at least 10 feet tall. It looked old and wooden but it was sturdy and had a large keyhole. It reminded her of something from Alice in wonderland and she snorted. She squinted through the keyhole to see what was on the other side. What she saw was a meadow, with the sun shinning and the birds singing. On top of a small hill sat a slender young man with his elbow propped up on his bent knee. He seemed deep in thought but otherwise content.

"Hey! Hey let me in!" Jean yelled but the man didn't respond. She pulled on the doorknob but the door wouldn't budge. She frantically banged on the door with balled fists.

Meanwhile…

Huge shards and pieces of debris from the Rocky Wave were raining down on Jean's position while both Gambit and beast gracefully dodged bolder bombardments. They weren't sure how Anthony knew where they were without using his eyes but his aim was true and accurate. Storm quickly thrust her hands out before her and summoned powerful winds to carry the boulders away but there were to many of them and she realized that she couldn't stop them all. Scott immediately bound into action running at the oblivious Jean at top speed he lunged for her and they toppled together in a sloppy tumble just as the rocks slammed to earth. The impact caused Dust to kick up and mushroom and Storm flew into the air summoning the winds to blow away everything that was obstructing her view. The dirt settled and from her high perch she found both Scott and Jean lying side by side, incapacitated.

"Jean! Scott!" She yelled out but before she could go to them the earth swelled from underneath her and parted like the jaws of some sort of terrain sea creature lunging out of the water. It swallowed her whole and the jagged opening clamping shut, leaving her completely enclosed in rock. Her mind reeled, this place was cold, dark and cramped. Ever since she was a child she always had a fear of enclosed spaces and this place was culmination of all her nightmares. She started to shake violently. She called out for help but no one answered. Panic welled up inside of her. She had to get out, had to escape. The walls felt like they were closing in on her, and she couldn't breathe. She cried out in desperation and the sky crackled with lightening.

XOXOXOXOXOXOX

"Jean?" Came a voice from behind. She turned to find Scott standing behind her looking confused and slightly shaken.

"Scott? How did you get here?" She looked at him equally confused.

"I don't know…where is here?" He looked around but all he saw was a door. The place was surreal with no definable ending or beginning of the white that surrounded them.

"This is some sort of mindscape Fabricated by Anthony. How did you get here, Scott?" Jean asked again with concern.

"I don't know, Anthony targeted you with one of his attacks and I knocked you out of the way…Then suddenly I'm here." He said looking down at himself and at the non-existent floor. There wasn't a floor, only white yet they weren't falling but weren't floating either.

"Jean, we have to get back to our bodies. The team can't handle Anthony on their own. They need us." Scott said firmly and Jean immediately closed her eyes in an attempt to sever her ties to this mindscape and return them back to their bodies.

"I don't understand…" She finally said when nothing happened.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't have a tether…" She opened her eyes to see the confused look on Scott's face.

"A tether, it's like a psychic rope or trail of bread crumbs that leads back to my body. It's so I don't get caught in someone's mind. With a tether you can leave anytime you want because you always have a connection to your body but here that connection was never made. This has never happened before…" Her eyebrows bunched and she walked up to the looming wooden door.

"Scott, we can't get back without a tether. We can't get back unless whoever is controlling the mindscape lets us out. We have to get through this door and find Anthony...He's the only one who can let us go."

To Be Continued…

The secret to Anthony's abilities is revealed and Scott stumbles onto Logan's Secret past.

Next Part: Anthony and Logan Revealed.


End file.
